Forgotten
by starlenia
Summary: Sometimes war tears apart everything we know and love...and we can only wish for it to return. but sometimes...wishing doesn't give us what we want. summary is fail. hahaha it's good! USUK, and other pairings included! reviews are much appreciated!
1. awake at last

disclaimer- i don't own Hetalia... sadly...if i did it would be longer and the relationships would be more intricate~! hahahaha enjoy!

"…rica…merica…America!" his eyes fluttered open focusing the mess of blonde hair belonging to his former caretaker. What was England doing here?

"hey there Sir bushy brow..." he stretched his arms up to find pain shooting though him. He winced, Well that hurt. What the hell had happened to him?

"shut t'up you moronic twit!" well then, there was no need to be that- something wet hit his hand. He didn't want to look over and see the nation crying. Knowing that he was…that was more than enough for America to handle.

Then it hit him, as if an electric bolt stuck his body. Numbing his being and forcing him to remember what had happened. The Nation swallowed closing his eyes only for a moment- for when he did all of the pictures that haunted him came I clear as day… Sh*t…his eyes burned.

"I…couldn't save him could I?" there was a silence. A painfully heart wrenching silence which spoke words worse than a response. No, he hadn't saved him. It was all America's fault.

Canada…Canada was dead. He felt the tears welling in his own eyes. NO! he fought against them. dammit! Hero's didn't cry! But… he wasn't really a "hero" now was he? So… he let the warm liquid flow from his eyes.

Canada had gotten into a war that was too much for him to fight. that sounded funny-and America would have laughed and called it a joke…as he had in the beginning…but since it wasn't a joke in the slightest. alls that he could do was fight against the ever flowing tears. It was impossible for Canada to be in a war… but somehow he was in one, and it wasn't something that he could handle. And though he hated to admit it, America knew even he couldn't have fought something like that alone…

America always knew that china was going to invade one day. Or at least he had a sneaking suspicion…but, china was a friend he hated to think if a friend that way. though America had expected it to start with himself. Not Canada. Not his brother. Though they looked alike and people often confused them for each other…China had targeted Canada first for a reason…

Because America is a hero. Because America would jump in and try to save him. Because America was already in a war of his own with Iraq… and now the war had spread. And it was just him and Canada against Iraq and all of Asia. But…England had joined in at the last moment…and-he guessed-that was why he is still alive…

"the war…" he began his voice husky. Green eyes bore like flames into his. Fury ripping though the other nation.

"DO YOU RELISE YOU COULD HAVE DIED ALFRED?" England shouted using his human name. He was angry, and America was confused, but unconcerned.

"yes." he stated, causing those green eyes to grow even more intense on his. America hated that all the brit seemed to care about was him at the moment. In any other situation he would have been please with it. But not his one. Right now he wasn't in the mood for it.

"I couldn't just leave him. he is" was, he reminded himself sadly- "my brother." the word caught in his throat causing the tears that were stinging the corners of his eyes to fall again. "and…I want to know what happened in the war."

The silence fell yet again and America wondered why England wouldn't tell him anything. Was it really that bad? He continued to prod the older nation asking him over and over the same question about what happened.

"England…" The blonde choked on his words. "please."

Finally the older man looked into his eyes showing so many emotions, centuries' old emotions.

"you…you won. Sorry. I was just…you won Al, then you passed out. Your country was nearly taken off the map." England's green eyes flared again, his former caretaker giving him a stern look. "…but you won. you're a hero Al. A stupid and idiotic hero, and I hate you for that." America smiled at that. And the tears continued to fall in big globs onto the hospital's white pillow. God dammit America! He thought to himself. Stop crying!

"but…" blue eyes melted. "Canada died... I'm no hero… and besides you're the one who came and helped us." England's emerald eyes searched his, bushy brows scrunching as if he didn't know what America was talking about… but surely he did. He had been in the war as well.

"America…Canada isn't dead. Not yet at least." Alfred froze. His heart pounding viciously in his chest. He had heard right hadn't he? Canada was alive? He shot up out of bed, only then realizing that what was pulling him back were the iv tubes connected to his arms. He started pulling them off, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. He really was a hero! Canada was safe, and he had to see it for himself before he could entirely believe it.

"thank god!" he whispered. "thank you…" this time it was directed towards the English nation. "come on, why are you so gloomy England? We're fine so… relax!" England looked up and cursed, venom in his voice.

"Relax? America, how can I relax when you almost got your head blown off there?" America stood only to be pushed back down again. He tried to fight to get up but England kept him down.

"let me up! England! Let go!" why was he so weak? America was struggling against the weight that he could lift up since he was a child. He should at least be able to push England off of him!

"no Alfred, I will not let you up! You need to rest."

"I've been asleep for days! How can I rest more than that? I'm sure too much resting can't be good for you!"

"since when do you know what is good for you? You don't! and that's why I always have to come and remind you! You had me worried sick dammit! And by god, if I am going to let you hurt yourself any more than this!"

"yeah? Well I'm sure that crushing me under your weight isn't a very good way to keep me safe! Especially while I am still healing!" then the weight was off of him and England was back in his chair.

"sorry are you-" America made a move to get up again, ignoring the pain shooting through him at an even harsher rate than before. Once again was he pushed onto the bed by England. And not in a fun way…not at all.

"go ahead boy, keep trying that." England's voice was dangerous, Alfred didn't care. He needed to go see his brother. He needed to…

"why?" the nation used his cute charm to his advantage, standing up again. "why can't I go see Canada? Nii-chan?" blush spread across England's face, America smirked inwardly. He was a sly one~ The green eyed man looked at a loss for words. America kept moving forward slowly, and just as he got past England his wrist was caught in a firm grip.

"no." The older man said with a glare. America looked back with a slightly pained expression.

"that hurts England…" he whimpered. It wasn't completely a lie. But it only hurt a little bit because his wrist was still healing. His arm was released and England stepped back, looking a bit dazed. America grinned, and took that opportunity to sprint towards the door.

He was out of the room his own footsteps pounding in his ears. England was close behind him shouting at him, but eventually giving up as America entered the room that his brother was being held in. his heart nearly stopped at what he saw. Canada was hooked up to many different machines, the heart monitor beating at an uneven pace. America slowly made his way over to his twin, touching his skin. It was cold. It shouldn't be cold.

"Canada?"

poor England. it always seems that he gets the bad end of everything...


	2. what am i supposed to remember!

_Disclaimer: i do not own Hetalia. sadly..._

_i hope you all like it so far-well if you didn't you wouldn't be reading the second chapter now would you? hahaha it gets much better as time goes on~ this is just the beginning~_

"he's not going to answer you." the monotonous voice sent chills up America's spine. How was it that Russia always seemed to show up in situations like this?

"why?"

"why do you think America? He's in a goddamn comma! that's why!" England snapped looking at America like it was his fault. It was, he was supposed to be a hero. And the fact that he wasn't- forced Canada to end up like this! "America….don't…you are a hero, you just…" America wasn't aware of the drops of tears falling yet again from his eyes until England had stepped closer, wiping them away. He drew back quickly, not wanting to be comforted, and facing his brother again. He needed a resolve.

Alright! He decided. I need to stop pitying myself like this. He stared at Canada, wondering what had gone on in the world after the war. Was America's country alright? What about Canada's country? For him to be in a comma... It must be in a very bad state right now… that's it! America was going to help rebuild his brother's country, just like he had done with many other countries. He was a hero, and that's what hero's did. They helped people.

"England? How long have I been asleep?" Alfred suddenly wondered. The English nation looked somewhat confused by this question. Could it be that he does not know himself? Was America out so long that they had lost count?

"about…eight or nine weeks?" England guessed, his large eye brows still scrunched in thought. Okay…America thought Eight or nine…

"eight or nine weeks? WEEKS?"

"be thankful it wasn't months!" The older man yelled, America supposed that was right. It could have been longer. He could be like…Canada… there was a longing to see those indigo orbs look at him again. It could be months. And if it was, then America was going to make sure that he would do what he could. Starting with the repairs. Though there was also the problem of his own country. And the state that it might be in right now. But he looked with hopeful eyes to England, causing the older nation to shrink back a bit.

"What is it Alfred?" he could see British man was already calculating the cost of the repairs America was expecting him to help with.

"will you help me rebuild?"

"no." the blonde shaggy haired man responded almost instantly. He was paled from what America supposed was the estimated amount.

"it won't cost that much! Promise!" his blue eyes looked into green ones a slight pout on his face. This was the face America had spent generations perfecting. The puppy dog face. The one that England was never able to resist. The other nation looked away quickly after realizing what the blonde was trying to do. America pushed further, forcing the other nation to look at him with his whimpers.

"that doesn't work on me anymore."

"but England….pleeeasseee?" he was sure by now that his eyes looked as if they were taken out of a shojo manga. How were they not working on him?

"no."

"but…"

"…."

"Nii-chan…."

"FINE!" the blush on the other man's face was quickly covered by a hand as he turned away from America. The younger nation smirked widely at his former caretaker.

"doesn't work on you? Really?"

"can you two stop flirting for just a moment?" America's triumphant smile quickly fell as Russia stepped forward. "America…" he began. "why are you out of bed?" right. His blue eyes shifted down guiltily and he rubbed the back of his neck.

"well Russia…there is a very good explanation for that."

"I'm sure there is."

"once you come up with it." England added glaring at his former colony.

"well you see, there was this deer and-!" America began.

"uh huh." Russia was coming closer, making the smaller nation begin to shrink back.

"yeah! And…and there was a giant robot who-!" his arm was grabbed while he waved it around wildly. Violet eyes already saw though everything that the American would have tried to come up with. He knew there was really no point in trying to deny it any longer. "well…." he admitted elongating the word. "I took off the IV tubes and stuff and I seduced England to-"

"you did not seduce me you prat!" America smirked at his big browed friend chuckling softly.

"really? Cause you were looking pretty seduced there."

"I wasn't seduced I was… well how do you expect me to react when you make that kind of face?"

"men, again. Flirting." Russia noted yet again bringing the two of them out of their little world of bickering. Both nations sighed and looked at the Russian who sighed. "Alfred do you know what happened to you? Why you needed to be on that bed. With those tubes attached to you? And why they needed to stay attached?" his voice was like ice, and America suddenly felt like a child being scolded for breaking his mother's most precious vase.

"sorry…"

"do you Alfred?" England echoed the Russian nation, giving him the same icy stare. The type of eyes that made the Britain's fuzzy eyebrows look menacing on his face.

"no." he admitted reluctantly, wanting to escape that look.

"that was a medicine that I had adapted for you. You needed it in order to keep your brain functions normal. You detached it when it needed to stay." America's throat went dry. That didn't sound good. What was wrong with his brain functions? "that is bad Alfred."

"what?"

"baaaaaaaaad." he dragged out the word as if he was talking to a child. America understood that it was bad…it's just…

"I mean…how…I should go back." he decided at last, taking a step back towards the door.

"yes, I shall hook it back up to you, though I don't know how much damage you have already caused nor if hooking it back up to you will even help now…"

"I don't think that America can get anymore retarded." England quipped, his face looked like-well the face of an ass hole. A douche bag. A dick. Need America go on? No, he stared at the older nation feeling somewhat insulted.

"hey!"

"are you suggesting that we let him stay like this. Not remembering anything that happened during the war. Forgetting-" Russia's measured tone was cut off by England's angered yell.

"shut up!"

"don't try to make yourself believe that this isn't going to get worse England!" Russia snapped, his violet eyes flickering dangerously from under his heavy lids. America didn't know what they were talking about. And THAT was pissing him right off. England was looking up at the other man with equally angry eyes. More so even than the Russian.

"look! I can believe what I want to, he'll be fine!"

"oh? Really? What if he isn't? what then England?"

"he-"

"what the FUCK are you guys talking about! I'm right HERE! Try and include me in this conversation okay?" The Russian man turned on him, but America managed to hold his ground and keep his gaze from wandering. If there was something going on with him-and he didn't think there was but-he figured that he deserved to know at least a little bit of it. Russia sighed.

"what do you remember from the war?" Alfred almost snorted. Well that was an easy one! He went back in his memories of that time. But…he couldn't remember anything specific. He remembered about fighting china. He knew that England had come and helped them.

"wasn't all of Asia against us? Including you?" He asked the big pale haired man. Russia shook his head slightly.

"not Russia. I helped."

"and I helped." England said, but America already knew that he'd helped them.

"yeah, and we fought hard all together, and we all won!" He grinned looking at the two nations standing in front of him. England looked away from him, anger and remorse showing on his face as his jaw clenched. He walked over to the window and looked out of it, seeming to be highly intrigued by something out there. Russia slowly closed his eyes and when he opened them again he looked over at England with a somewhat pitying look… it was a look that America didn't like. What? What was going on?

"guys? That is what happened. I'm not crazy."

"no, you are right." the Russian paused. "in a way…" now those lilac eyes were looking sadly at America. "America you don't remember-"

"he'll remember on his own." England suddenly snapped, back in the conversation.

"remember what?" America's temper was flailing in a desperate rage. Russia looked at his again with a sigh.

"you have a brain concussion. Your memories are being affected by it and you have lost a small portion of your memories as is, and will continue to lose more."

"you…you're joking!" he laughed. "ah Russia, man, you really need to learn how to tell a joke. Wow, you really had me going there!" America tried to laugh it off, he wanted to laugh it off and continue to believe that it was all just a joke. But he could see the looks in England and Russia's faces. They were serious.

"Alfred I'm not-"

"yeah, I know." he found himself looking down, struggling to think of a positive thing to say. Mostly to reassure himself. "but hey, if I don't remember what happened then it must not have been very important! So, I'm all good!" he gave the two his signature thumbs up and stupid grin.

He could tell that he had said the wrong thing. The Russian man had paled slightly, and England…well he-

"ugh! I'm going to my hotel for tonight! I've had just about enough of this, go on and hook him back up to his bed and make sure he stays there!" he shot one last glare at America, and stormed out of the room. Man, what was with England?_

_poor England~ hahaha _


	3. get you out of my mind

_Disclaimer: i don't own Hetalia... damn. _

_What the bloody hell is wrong with that prat!_ England wondered as he stalked down the roads towards his hotel. Saying that whatever had happened was unimportant! Humph! The Englishman had decided long since that God and the universe were out for him. Making his life a living hell in any way possible. And tearing away everything that he had finally managed to get into his hands.

…_into my arms_….

He clenched his fists, shoving away the images of what Alfred and he had become. Trying to get in into his head that it would be like that never happened. Seeing as Alfred didn't remember it. A small part of him kept telling him that he could restart. Saying that If he loved him once, he could still love him again. The heart doesn't forget the same way the brain does. But then part of him said that the heart didn't control memories. If it did, well then his America would still be with him. But… America didn't love him. Not anymore. Now he was back to the way they used to be. All that they had become forgotten.

Lost.

He looked up.

I'm Lost.

Crap. Where was he? He looked up at the sky impatiently thanking god sarcastically. Great, he had been too wrapped in his thoughts, and had probably taken a wrong turn somewhere. This wasn't good, he'd retrace his steps…but he didn't know where he had walked for he hadn't been paying any attention.

Life was just fantastic! The Britain sighed, and looked around him, hoping that he would find something that would tell him how to get back on track. But there wasn't, so he turned around and walked back the direction he'd come.

The smell of freshly cooked food reached his nose, making him remember just how hungry he was. He hadn't eaten in days in his worrying over his lov-he couldn't be called that now anymore could he? For how can one be another's lover if they do not remember anything about ever being IN love? They cant.

England finally found the bar/restaurant, and swung the doors open, inhaling deeply. Oh~ that smelt so good. He sat at the bar and asked them to bring him some garlic bread and fish and chips. When they told him they didn't have fish and chips, he cursed silently at America-he would have to talk to him about that later-and then England asked the bartender to just bring out the garlic bread. The man disappeared into the kitchen and England was left sitting there waiting for time to pass as an annoying sound caught his ears.

Someone was doing karaoke. Great, he'd chosen a wonderful place to eat. Dinner and bleeding ears. Perfect. He couldn't help but remember the parties he'd attended where America had full reign of karaoke. With his beautiful and stirring voice…. Until he got drunk. Then his voice was well…still nice but he tended to rap. And England wasn't too fond of rapping.

"hey baby what's your sign."

"go away." he muttered at the voice unsure if it was just another memory of America. Him and his pick up lines.

"well that's mean…come on, lets have a little fun?" he looked over at the woman who was trying to get his attention. And by the way she was dressed, she must be getting a lot of attention. Her brown hair spilt down her shoulders, eyes a deep and ocean like blue. Her shirt didn't go past her navel, and her shorts were indecent. Fun, that was something that he wanted to do. He thought sarcastically.

"no thank you." he tried to turn the brunette down politely. She stared up at him with the same big eyes America had used on him earlier that day. It must just be an American thing. " I don't need to have any fun."

"oh sure you do~" she said in a sing-song voice smiling at him brightly. "come on." it looked like she wasn't going to take no for an answer. England looked her over once again and with a sigh he stood up and followed her to the dance floor. "I found someone to sing the song with me!" She called out to the DJ. England looked at her.

"what? I never said I would-" she looked at him with those eyes again and he figured that he had nothing to lose, so he sighed and took the mic.

"thanks! By the way, the name's Amber." she winked. The song started and he looked at the TV preparing himself for some stupid song. The song "the picture" started. Sheryl crow and kid rock… England couldn't help but think of how close it was to how he felt. Though it was not exactly the same scenario. His part came up on the screen, highlighted in blue for the "male solo".

"_living my life in a slow hell…_" yes, life HAD become hell since he had lost Alfred. It wasn't like he was actually dead but…

"_different girl every night at the hotel…_" actually he hadn't even thought of that.

"_I haven't seen the sunshine in two damn days…_" no, he hadn't. Alfred had been that for him. His shining star, his hero…

"_I put your picture away,_" he would have to do that, it would be easier to forget.

"_sat down cried today. I can't look at you…while I'm lying next to her…_"

The girl sang her part, and it immensely reminded him of America. How will he feel when people are looking at him. And they know, but…he doesn't. never will- England thought remorsefully. He came in late on his second verse, and soon the song was over. The girl smiled and thanked him for singing with her. England decided to keep talking to her. He found out that she was a college student, early 20s, and that she lived alone in a rented apartment. He told her his human name, and that he lived in England, basically.

"you're a pretty good singer Mr. Arthur." He grinned.

"well lets just say, Britain's got talent." this made her giggle. Amber took another sip of her drink.

"so, do you have a girlfriend?" she asked.

"no," he said sadly. "not anymore." she must have sensed something in his voice because she gave him a sad look and placed a hand on the side of his face.

"I'm sorry." he closed his eyes and moved away.

"there is no need to apologize for something that you did not do."

"I guess you're right, but think of it as an apology on the behalf of all the woman who would treat you that way, you know… you have a very sexy accent." she smiled and moved her hand away. England smiled back at her. She was an easy one; he could use her…to forget. But her apology was still in vain, for it was not a woman who had done this to him. But she didn't need to know that.

"do I?" he asked.

"mmm." she nodded after taking another sip of her drink. She was getting drunk.

"do you want to come back to my place tonight?" he extended the invitation bluntly, not really caring if she turned him down. It would just mean that he was wrong about her, and that the part of him begging him not to do this would be satisfied. But the larger part of him begging for some kind of escape would not be…meaning that he would probably end up doing something reckless.

Amber looked up and him and grinned slyly. "why I would love to Arthur." she purred, standing up and sliding the money for her drink onto the bar, he did the same, and the two of them walked out of the bar.

They walked down the streets to the hotel like a couple, her blabbering on in his ear. He pretended like it was Alfred, and when they got back to his apartment he thought of nothing but his love. His America. Even as his clothes were forgotten on the floor he still couldn't get the man's face out of his mind. Even as her kisses lines his body…even as the night fell into the heat of passion…

Alfred

England woke up before the girl that morning and left her there. She would find her way out. She knew that this was only a one night thing. Or so he hoped. But as he left the room he couldn't help but to hear the muffled sob she let out. He wondered briefly if she had also been looking for an escape that night. But he wouldn't think of her again, after all she was just a human. Unimportant. He hated himself for thinking like that…he was a jerk…

He rounded the street corner, lost in thought once again as he ended up at the hospital where America and Canada were. Why did he continue to come here? Even when it hurt him the way it did to be around Alfred…

"Angleterre!" Shitf*ck. France was here…

"hello France…" The other nation pulled him into a hug and when he released him he looked him up and down.

"you've had sex. Last night?" his eyes turned pitiful. England looked at the man with a cold glare.

"is there a problem with that?"

"no… I suppose there isn't."

"Good. Now move you git." England didn't like his lapse of grace being called out on him…he didn't want America to know what he had done… he felt somewhat dirty for doing it, but for a short time…it did give him an escape. He turned back to France avoiding the other mans eyes for a second and then saying. "don't tell Alfred…okay?" the other mans blue eyes looked sad, while his mouth smiled.

"I wouldn't hurt him like that."

"its not like it would hurt him anymore…" France froze, staring at England.

"you mean…"

"he doesn't remember a thing. Everything that happened between us. He forgot it all." England could feel the catch in his throat, but before any tears could well he was pulled into an embrace. It was warm, France knew how to hold someone… NO! he shoved the other man away glaring at him.

"don't touch me you pervert." The Frenchman sighed and shook his head.

"I was only trying to comfort you Mon Cheri…"

"I don't need comforting you git!" I need America…he thought sadly before turning and walking out of the lobby towards the elevator. He felt his body reach in a dry heave once he was inside the metal box that was to bring him up to the room Alfred lay in. 406. He collapsed against the wall and held his head between his knees trying to make the attack go away. He needed to appear fine while in America's presence.

The doors opened and he stepped out into the hall way, making his way towards the room. The nurse at the counter had seen him every day and knew he was visiting so she let him pass without having him check in as a visitor. His steps finally brought him to the room and he walked in, plastering a smile on his face.

When he pushed back the curtains he saw the TV flashing with some stupid baseball game and Alfred… asleep. His smile faltered and he sat in the chair his eyes trailing along the tubes that were once again connected to the nation.

"Alfred?" he asked wondering if he was just resting his eyes. He waited for the response, but it never came. England sighed and just stared at him. At least he was alright… he looked so peaceful asleep, almost as if he was still the same child England had loved so much. The one who had broken his heart twice now.

"I still love you…you stupid hero" he whispered softly, moving a strand of hair out of America's face. dammit.

_A.N: awwwwwwsssssss~ england is so cute~ i know you all probably hate what he did...but all's i can do is apologize and encourage you all to keep reading! i will have more up soon! the song foreshadowed alot~ ...or so i think! _


	4. fcking FABULOUS

dislacimer: i do not own hetalia despite how much i wish i did...

oh! a big thankyou to my first reviewer ever:

Lone Star Gazer15

i hope that you will all continue to read and tell me what you think! i will try to reach deadlines if asked! i'm looking forward to sharing this story with everyone! ^-^

* * *

_The battlefield was drenched with rain and blood. He couldn't tell if it was even really raining anymore… he had finally done it, October 19__th__, 1781 in Yorktown Virginia, it was Finally over. The Revolutionary war was coming to an end. America had won…_

_He stared down at England feeling somewhat sorry for the man who had taken care of him for so long. The nation was crying and, not once-in all of the years America had been with him- had he seen this man cry. He had always been there with either a smile or a frown. But never tears. _

"_England." The sound of the man's name seemed to echo though the much too silent air. America masked his emotions, for is he let the other man see how much this hurt him… he knew that it would only make England feel worse. If that was even possible… This was what he wanted, and there was no going back now. _

_Not even if he wanted so desperately to hold England in his arms and tell the man that he had always been with that he was just kidding…_

_but this was a war. _

_And you didn't kid about wars. _

_So America stood above England looking down at the pitiful state the older nation was in. the green eyes that were always so full of fire now looked as if the flame had vanished as England glared up at him. _

"_Don't look down on me because of this you twit! I hate you!" his voice broke "I hate you so much! Why did you have to go and get so big? WHY did you have to go and declare your independence? Why couldn't you have just stayed with me…" sobs and curses filled America's ears. _I'll never be completely gone…_ he thought. I just—

* * *

_

America awoke with a start to find that it was nighttime already and there was strange warmth near him. And no, he hadn't wet himself-he hoped- or had opened some kind of wound which was now bleeding….

But both of those were unlikely.

So he looked.

A mess of blonde hair on top of two arms was beside him. England was back. Even though he had seemed pretty pissed off when he left last night…here he was again. America smiled down at him, the dream flooding back.

Why had he dreamt about that moment? That time so long ago when he had decided that he could no longer be England's little brother. Those memories were so distant, but yet so clear… why? Why could he remember what had happened during _that_ war and not the one that had _recently_ happened?

It must be something important seeing as England got all worked up, and today everyone had been giving him those pitying looks, asking him if he remembered anything... He knew the outlines of what had happened, but nothing that wasn't obvious. Ugh! Why was nobody telling him anything?

"Al…" England murmured. It made America wonder if he was awake, but the incoherent mumblings that followed assured him that the older man was definitely sound asleep. So he was having a dream about _him_ as well?

"Iggy…?" Alfred whispered. "What...What am I _missing_…?"

"Your brain." The man responded just as he would have if he was awake. It brought America a feeling of nostalgia that he couldn't quite place… but he still laughed at the quip. England was brutally honest sometimes… even in his sleep.

"Jerk." He murmured playfully at the older nation.

"You're the jerk…."

"For what?" maybe he would finally get some answers out of the sleepy truth spell England was in.

"everything." Oh yeah, he was definitely getting some specific answers out of that.

"Tell me!" he shouted. Crap. That was too lou—

"Huh?" England stood quickly whipping the side of his mouth and looking around wildly. "sh*t" he whispered.

"Morning sunshine." Alfred grinned.

"Morning l—" he stopped. Blinked. And looked away.

"What?"

"Twit!"

"What'd I do?" America raised an eyebrow at the sudden fury erupting from the man.

"Everything!" Oh yes. So apparently everything was his fault.

"That's real mature Artie."

"Don't call me by that stupid name!"

"Artie."

"shut up!"

"Ar—!" a hand was shoved over his mouth causing his words to be lost in the other man's palm. Try and he might he couldn't get away from England. Was he really that pissed about the nick name…? cause if so America was sorry…

England's green eyes blazed down at Alfred as he pushed him further down on the hospital bed. America wanted him to let go, but at the same time found part of him wishing for…more? He shut that part up and stuck his tongue out-licking the British man's hand.

"ugh! That is _disgusting_ America!" And like that America had his mouth free again.

"You know what's disgusting?" he ran his teeth over his tongue. "the _taste_ of your hand! Seriously England do you WASH them?" The other man glared at him.

"Of course I wash my hands you git! Unlike _someone_…." He trailed off, the hot fury dying slowly. Until…he was just staring at Alfred.

"What? I do _so_ wash my hands!" England raised an eyebrow at that, and then sat back down in the chair that was beside the bed, his gaze shifting downwards to his palms on his lap. There was a long silence until a long grumbling broke it. The two of them looked up guiltily.

"You didn't eat?" England growled accusingly.

"I've been asleep since I was hooked back up to this thing! Why didn't _you_ eat?" It was a lie. He had only fallen asleep that day, after France had come to say hello to him. He didn't eat because the hospital refused to give him his cheese burger! Who did they think they were! Refusing a country his life food! Did they want him to starve with what this _healthy_ food? Ha!

"i—!" the other man sighed. "I lost track of time…"

"oh? And you just figured that sleeping next to me was so _fabulous_ that you just didn't remember that you were hungry? Ya know. I was asleep-it not like I would have missed you." Green flames flickered in England's eyes as he glared America down.

"Fabulous? America? _Fabulous_? You think that I was having a _f*cking_ _FABULOUS_ time sitting there thinking about all the things that you are _never_ going to remember?" his voice broke and he looked away touching a finger to the sides of his eyes so that America wouldn't see his tears, but he still did. And that made Alfred even more angry.

"What am I not remembering? Tell me!"

"No, there is no point unless you remember _yourself_." The Britain's voice was suddenly very cold. Alfred found himself hating him-just a little bit. He didn't like not knowing things. And the fact that it seemed important enough to get England this worked up… it had to be something even slightly important.

"let's go get something to eat. There is no point to me being here any longer." Alfred sat up, noticing that the IV tubes were _not_ there at about the same time England did.

"where are they?" the brit fumed.

"I don't know. Maybe Russia didn't—!"

"you called~?" The tall man was suddenly in the room with them walking gracefully over to America's bed. England turned on him.

"Why is he not hooked up anymore?" Russia's icy violets bore into England's emerald orbs.

"He should not have short term memory loss now, but ze memories from the var cannot be restored. Canada on ze other hand—"

_Canada! _

"sh*tf*ck! Where is he? Is he doing better? He… hasn't woken yet has he…?" America asked getting out of the bed and walking towards the door. He didn't like not knowing things, and in all of his life as a country he didn't think there was ever a time when he didn't have the slightest clue what was going on. And he resented that.

"no, he has not awoken. I do not think that he vill until his country is doing better…" America's chest hurt, his heart sinking. He needed to help Canada. Needed to be his hero.

…Needed _him_…

"can I go see him?" America asked.

"no-go eat. zen come back."


	5. Canada has nothing to do with this!

Disclaimer: unfortunately i don't own hetalia...hahaha

I am so sorry for not uploading for so long!/ its been really hellish lately. my puppy died of some lime disease and her kidneys failed. she was not even 2!...so yeah... that and school has begun. 10th grade is a b*tch~ hahaha i hope that you have been-and continue to enjoy it! i have alot of chapters that i've been writing in my little notebook lots of them! so please continue to support me! and please review! (i'll love you forever if you do!)

* * *

And of course-America chose a McDonald's. England stared at him as he bit down on his what—5th burger? England had lost track. It was shocking really how much grease and fat America could shove down his throat. What was even more shocking was that he hadn't had a heart attack yet. With the way that he ate…

England placed one of America's French fries in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as the other man whipped his mouth…with his sleeve.

"hey-that was mine." America pouted snatching the boxed container of fries away from the older nation.

"Whatever. I'm having some." That made the other nation roll his eyes.

"so…" Alfred began as he folded his hands under his chin. "my country seems to be in pretty good shape!" a grin spread over the blondes fac. Well—England thought I put enough money and effort into rebuilding and repairing it. It had better be doing well. England took another fry. "We should be able to start right away on rebuilding Canada!" England stopped, shifted uncomfortably in his chair and looked away. He was jealous. He knew that he shouldn't have been upset by the fact that America seemed to only be concerned about Canada. They were brothers after all! Alfred and Mathew…it was only natural to worry about your brother. To want him to be safe. But when you were a country… the term "brother" simply meant that you were close to that person. Some like a brother, but no blood ties. Thus England was jealous, even if it was just an innocent heroic act. Why couldn't America be his hero?

What if Alfred fell in love with Canada? England and he were once brothers and now they were—!

Nothing.

Now-they were nothing.

…at all…

"?"

"what?" England snapped out of his de pressing thoughts knowing that America had asked him a question.

"you're going to help pay for it right? Cause I mean…. Though my country is in good shape…there was still a war and…"

England looked up at him. Was he being serous? Hadn't England already answered this question and now he was trying to guilt him into doing it?

"My money is spent as well Alfred…" and the younger man made the face. The depressed one that made England want to give him whatever he wanted. It was exactly

how America had gotten things when he was little.

"Oh…."And there was that tone of voice. Followed by the younger nations heartbreaking sigh… it was silly really, how after all of these and through all of the times that they fought England was still weak against this man…

But that was all in the past.

"France will probably help you…" he offered. "But do you have any plans on how to actually fix Canada? what will you do about all of the cities and states that were burn to the ground Alfred? Do you not know that you yourself just woke up? Has that not registered yet, Alfred?"

"But I…"

"I KNOW that you've done it before for other countries! but do you ever stop to think about yourself! No? I know you don't. cause you're a hero and hero's always put others before themselves!"

"But i…" he tried again.

"no Alfred! Do you think that Canada is suddenly going to spring up and thrive again? Cause that is not the way it works. Simply not! And if you think that stupid country is going to live again simply because you willed it, you have another things com—."

"he's not dead…" America looked hurt, but his voice was soft and England just disregarded what he had said. England knew that he was being cruel. Unnecessarily cruel… he shouldn't be acting this way to Alfred…. Not if he wanted him to love him again… but what if he didn't?

"Alfred that idiot is—."

"MY BROTHER IS NOT AN IDIOT!" America snarled viciously, slamming his hands down onto the table causing others to cease their talking and look over to see what was going on. England just stared up calmly at the younger nation who if this were a cartoon he imagined would have flames shooting out around him. And what if he hates me?

"face it Alfred you know—."

"don't call me by that name!" America shouted. " I don't know who the hell you think you are or WHAT you think you are to ME but—." England couldn't bottle his rage anymore, and it all just exploded.

"It's his damn fault Alfred_! All of this!_" He hadn't realized how much he actually blamed Canada for what had happened. Even though it wasn't the younger nations fault... "You would think that a country would be smart enough to have a working army. A good one! And he wouldn't need to call on his brother for help! He is an idiot for not being strong enough!" There was a slight pause before he filled the tense atmosphere with one more word. "America." He hissed the name as if it were a curse. And it was. The older nation hated to call him that. Hated it! But as he sat there in the heat of the fight he couldn't help but wonder why it was that Alfred was able to get him worked up the way he always got when fighting with him.

Alfred didn't even flinch at the harsh tone of England's voice. And Arthur somewhat resented that the young nation was just staring at him with those icy cerulean eyes. Eyes that no longer were fueled with the flames of rage… Maybe he knows that he has lost this fight… England thought. But did America ever truly believe that he had lost a fight? He thought not. He knew the younger nation well enough for that.

If anyone here had lost a fight it would be England. He hated calling the other man by his country name. it almost implied that they were just acquaintances. And he guessed that now that was what they were. Now that England had lost the only privilege he still had. The ability to call Alfred…Alfred. But that privilege had probably been taken away not now— but when America had woken up with no memory of the fragile love they had shared. A frailness that seemed silly to think of back then when their love seemed as if it could overcome the greatest war. But…it hadn't and Alfred's—no, _America's_ memory loss was proof enough of that. He was not his anymore…_And maybe never will be again…_

"England…"America began. England looked away from him. The younger man had probably already seen those emotions clearly across his face he didn't want to look him in the eyes ever again.

"Eat your other sandwich."

"it's a cheese burger." England rolled his eyes at that. _Whatever_ America was unwrapping the greasy death trap. How many was he able to stomach? Good thing he was a nation…

"Cheese burger- sandwich- same diff you're still shoving it down your throat in alarming amounts. Jesus America are you even chewing?"

The younger nation glowered at him, finishing the burger and licking his fingers. "You know what?"

"no, What America?"

" well at least it's better than your crap Iggy." He reached down for his drink and slurped the last bits of it out. "and you may be thinking that _this_ is crap—." That had been _exactly_ what England was thinking "—and I'm not saying that it's not, but at least its _good_ crap." _Yes_…England supposed. McDonalds was good tasting crap. Whereas his food-as many tended to put it- was poison. _Whatever_. America's was just a better tasting poison. A much better poison. The same applied for the nation himself. He sighed and gazed out the window. There were the golden arches…looming over the building.

A long blissful silence passed before America spoke.

"England?"

"Hmmm?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He smiled.

"God…I could swear that you're bipolar." America sighed.

"It's not good to swear." England stated boredly causing the younger nation to roll his eyes.

"Shut up."

"Make me." The thick browed man glared at America, a slight smile on his face. The other man stood, placing both his hands on the table and his face in very close proximity to England's. There was a daring look in his blue eyes, those soft lips showing that arrogant smile that the younger nation got when he was challenging someone. _So it's a game he wants?_

"Do you really want me to?" he breathed moving his face so close that if England hadn't moved away at that exact time they probably would have kissed. Despite how badly England wanted that he just couldn't bring himself to say the word that his mind was screaming at him. _Yes_! But he had just turned his face and looked away from the American.

"Get AWAY from me you bloody wanker!" England saw America sit back in his chair though the corner of his eye. He brought the drink up to his lips—those lips that England now couldn't stop thinking of. He had been so close to kissing him. It would have been consent. America had started it. It would have all been okay. _No… no it wouldn't have_. Cause America didn't actually feel that way. The cup was slammed back down onto the table with a sound of annoyance from the person holding it.

"Iggy…" There was something in his voice. A sadness that hadn't been there before…. The older nation looked back at the blonde.

"what?" He asked hesitantly, seeing the puppy dog look in his eyes.

"do you hate me?"

_Wait what?_

"what in the world would make you think that?"

"well…so…you _don't_ hate me?" His blue eyes went wide. Jesus—why the hell does he have to do this? Doesn't he know that England was weak against those things? Of course he knew. That's why he was doing it.

"no-no…" the other mans face suddenly burst into a grin and he snatched up England's drink downing it within seconds .the brit just stared at him incredulously.

"really?" he asked. "really America?"

The other man placed the cup on the table and licked his lips teasingly.

"really."

"Ugh! Jerk!" America stiffened and a devious expression came over his face.

"and _why_ am I a jerk England?"

England wanted to shout it to the world. America was a jerk because he didn't remember confessing that he loved him. He didn't remember how he had held England in the cold nights of the war. How England had bandaged his wounds and cried because it hurt him too. America was a jerk because he wasn't ever going to touch England the way he had once done. He was a jerk because he was a drug. England's drug, and the moment that he was so addicted to it that it physically hurt him to not have it, that very drug was ripped from his heart. But England wasn't going to tell America any of this. Why? Because the other nation had to remember it on his own. If someone told him it wouldn't be his real feelings, just a replica of them.

"hhhmmm?" England glared at him.

"Because you are." He answered calmly.

"Bitch."

"And why is that?" England turned on him.

"Because you won't tell me!"

"And I am not _going_ to!" America just stared at him for some time before the other nation blurted out:

"does it have something to do With Canada?"

"Canada had _nothing_ to do with this! It's just _you_!"

"you know, fighting like a married couple is going to solve nothing. You olbiously have a problem with me so i—."

"no Alfred." England wanted to reach out and take his hand. "I'…sorry…." He closed his eyes and just let himself breathe. "I'm just a tad bit mad right now."

"a tad bit ma—what do you mean?"

"nothing. You don't need to worry about it. Now….what are we going to do about Canada?"

"oh! Canada! Yeah! So we'll—." And just like that america's mind went to a different topic like the ADD child that he was. England sighed and didn't even listen to him. It was going to take a lot to get Canada up and running again…

…_damn_… he thought, _this is going to be one hell of a year….._


	6. that's some bullsht way to compromise!

**Disclaimer: i do not own hetalia.**

yay! longest chapter yet! sorry for the delay guys-school. that is my excuse. hahaha

XD go flashbacks!

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_America sat back against the wall of the shelter gasping as he slowly slid down the smooth surface. His blood was outstanding against the gray brick. There was a lot of it, and it appeared that the blonde nation had been shot. He made a grunting noise as he hit the floor, his gun clattering down beside him. For a while the American just sat there with his head titled back, inhaling deeply. Alfred didn't see England watching him, he couldn't see the expressions of pan on England's face as the older man watched the crimson liquid ooze through America's shirt. It was just a flesh wound of course, and England knew that no real harm had been done to America __**but still… **_

_The younger man continued to strip the camouflage jacket from his body, ripping his shirt and tossing the mangled cloth to the ground. __**Damn it… **__both articles of clothing were soaked in the nation's blood. America would be fine because he was a country. __**Because the only real harm that can be done to him is on his states…**__ But that fact didn't make the terrifying bullet wound on his side go away. And at that moment England still saw the look of hurt on America's face, and felt his pain. __**Stupid wars… **__making the one he loved get hurt. _

_It was funny really all of the countless wars and battles that England had been in, and nothing had emotionally tore at him more than the ones with Alfred. Even if the other man didn't love him…England knew that because he loved that IDIOT…everything was so much more terrifying. _

"_Bloody imbecile." England muttered, ripping the sleeve off of his shirt so that he could stop the blood flowing from Alfred's wound. America looked up, finally realizing that the older nation was there. _

"_hey Iggy." He chuckled half heartedly then suddenly winced as more blood flowed out of the open wound. _

"_did you get the bullet out?" the Englishman asked hurriedly. _

"_yeah, a while back there…as soon as…" he winced again. "soon as I got hit." That grin of his came over the American's face, the grin that seemed to always be challenging England. "Did you really think that I was that stupid?" _

"_no, but I did know that you were that careless. God dammit America!" England pressed the cloth to his wound causing the other man to draw in a sharp breath. "you could've gotten hit again! And you took it out wrong!" America rolled his eyes, still smiling warmly at him. There was a long silence and not once did Alfred's eyes cease to examine England's face. _

"_I'm fine you know…" _

"_you don't know what you are stupid." _

"_pfft—sure I do! I'm the f*cking united states of America!" England mentally slapped his forehead as the blonde nation held up a thumb. Oh how the British man just wanted to backhand him across that beautiful face of his…_

"_What?" the American asked, his blue eyes clear and shining into England's green ones with a mischievous amusement. England felt a blush creeping over his face. _

"_What do you mean 'what' you bloody wanker!"America laughed again, and suddenly his arms were surrounding England. The other man was confused by this action, his face growing hotter. "What the hell are you—?" _

"_you were staring at me."The American whispered into England's ear, ticking his neck. _

"_**you**__ were staring at __**me**__!" He huffed. _

"_no," America smiled, his voice confident. "You were staring at me." England looked away. _

"_was not you twit." _

"_mmmhmmm…sure you weren't~" America chuckled, his lips moving gently across England's neck. Why __**is he doing this?**__ America didn't know how England felt towards him, but surely he must know that this was like torture to the Englishman. England hated it! He wanted the younger nation to stop!_

_So then… Why couldn't England find it in him to push Alfred away! _

_**Because I love him. Because I am enjoying this, and I don't WANT him to stop…**__ England thought remorsefully. _

"_you know Iggy…" Alfred's hand came up and cupped England's cheek as he came out of the embrace. Those crystalline eyes seemed to pierce right through to England's soul. The younger man just kept staring at him in a way that made England want to look away. But he couldn't. for his eyes were also transfixed on America. It wasn't fair. The nation was so perfect. Even though he had just gotten out of a battle where he had been shot, that wound had already healed and now his smooth chest held a fading pink scar__**… His smooth, and agonizingly beautiful chest….**__Arthur was sure that if everyone who came out of a war looked like this-there would be far more people enlisting. England trailed his eyes up to Alfred's golden hair. The hair that reminded him so much of the wheat fields England had found the boy in as a child. So long ago… and now here they were. In danger, and yet they were tangled in each other's arms. _

_England could feel his heart beating furiously as his eyes once again met America's. those sapphire orbs showed so much emotion...it made England wonder if he also had all of his emotions plainly visible on his face. With that thought England blushed feeling extremely exposed. __**Like I can't hide anything… **_

"_What?" he questioned, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "What do I know?" he tried to keep the blush from his cheeks without success. The American paused and took in a deep breath. He suddenly seemed vulnerable, unsure…__**what could it be? **_

"_I love you Arthur." He breathed. _

_England's world stopped. And for a brief moment it was just America. Just Alfred. The words the other man had spoken rang through England's ears. They bounced around his brain and wrapped his heart in a warm blanket. __**HE SAYS HE LOVES ME! **__England could cry of happiness. He wanted to laugh and hug the blonde. He wanted to say something in response but he could only stare at him. He needed to tell him that he felt the same way! All of this time he'd—_

_America pressed his lips over England's causing the older nation to surrender to the kiss, his mouth opening so that Alfred's tongue could slide in. it was more amazing than England could have ever imagined-and he had a __**very **__ good imagination- it was like— England shuddered as the younger nation wove his finger through his hair. –heaven. He gasped as the kisses trailed down his neck, and laying soft kisses on the palm of his hand. His penetrating blue eyes boring into England's green ones. There was a silence. _

"_do…you love me?" Did America sound unsure? England just stared at him, unable to fine his voice. Did he love him? Could those simple and overused words truly express what he felt towards the blonde? Dammit! England had always been bad at talking! He had always resented that trait of his, now more than ever. Because __**now**__ it mattered a lot, and he didn't know how to respond… would 'I love you.' Come out right? What if he said something stupid? What if the American was joking? No. seeing those blue eyes staring up at him, England knew that the younger nation was being completely serious. A side of him that didn't often come out. And those eyes were slowly growing more and more worried. The awkward silence had lasted too long. _

"_oh…" America muttered, staring to back away, thinking that he was wrong to have done that. He thought that England didn't feel the same! _

"_NO!" He muttered backing away his face burning. Blue orbs shot to England's face, hurt spreading over the American's face. Sh*t! No! England had to think quick- his hands flung out and tried to pull Alfred in by the shirt that he didn't have on. Marvelous instead he just ended up smacking foreheads with the blonde. "no, I mean…" he rested his forehead on America's searching his face and seeing the utter confusion. There was nothing that he could say that seemed right. _

"_England what…" England tentatively moved his face down so that his lips nearly touched Alfred's. He could feel his breath mingling with the others mans. Gingerly he pressed his lips to the other mans. America smiled under his lips and kissed back, taking control of the situation, but keeping the kiss gentle. It didn't bother England. America was better at this kind of stuff. England just… was a terrible flirt. A bad boyfriend. And he always complained. And he couldn't cook… and…why would America want someone like him? no…_

_None of that mattered because Alfred DID want someone like England and the proof was all in this kiss. He loved him. With such a fierce love the only way it could ever be properly described was through their actions. _

"_I mean…" England tried again, as he broke from the kiss—breathing deeply. He kissed him again, this time more passionately, more desperately. "not no. yes." He laughed. "yes Alfred. I love you." _

"_you…"_

"_yes!" England's body felt light. It seemed as though he could just cry. "yes, yes, yes, a thousand times yes Alfred! I love you." He nuzzled the other man's neck. "I always have." He whispered at last, throwing his arms around the nation. America laughed. _

"_dude, you act like I just asked you to marry me." England buried his hot face further. _

"_yes to that too."_

_America laughed._

"_I only wish it were that simple…" _

"_me too…" Arthur mumbled snuggling closer to his love. _

"_I love you…" they both said together. America paused. _

"_jinx." England glared at him. The American smiled tenderly at him, his blue eyes warm as he touched his forehead to the Englishman's. _

…_and like magnets their lips were pulled together once again…_

"_Arthur."America said when he finally pulled away. England couldn't help but smile as he rested his head in the crook of Alfred's neck. _

"_twit." He said lovingly. _

_In this time of war this moment seemed to be a completely different world. A separate place entirely from where it actually was, and England felt safe for the first time in months. Safe, with the arms of the one he loved around him.

* * *

_

England awoke with a start the warmth of Alfred's arms still surrounding him. He knew that it was all just a dream. A dream of when Alfred had confessed that he'd loved England… during that damned war. It was another one of the things that America would never remember.

_Dammit_ England inwardly cursed himself for being such a negative thinker. There was no helping it he supposed. It was just part of who he was…. Sighing, England turned on his side and was hit with a pleasing aroma. It smelt like…well there was no other word but to describe it as good. He remembered that he had taken a girl last night… it was idiotic and immature, really, that he was doing this. He couldn't even remember her name… _molly_? He didn't really care all that much…

The nation rolled onto his back and before he could stop them, the silent tears were slipping out of his eyes. _Dammit_…he thought, raising his arm up to his forehead and just lying there. _My pillow is going to get soaked…_ try as he might, he couldn't stop the tears from flowing. He'd sprung a leak…

He hated it…

They were a few months into repairing Canada. It was going well; they were getting the nation together piece by piece. There was less damage than England had originally thought that there would be. Which was a good thing, and it meant that it wouldn't take as much money, time, or work to get the country running again. The British man didn't resent that fact. He was happy that Canada would be better soon.

America was doing everything in his power to make sure that all repairs were completed within record speed. France was even helping him.

But Alfred still hadn't remembered anything at all. He passed by the camp they had stayed at together. They passed the building America had been in with England when he had first confessed. There were other places as well that America had passed but they triggered no memory.

He supposed that America would have at least had some kind of vague recognition of something. But he didn't. not that England knew of… and that broke the British man's heart. He sucked in a breath and bit down on his lip.

"oh…Artie, what's wrong?" the girl turned over to look at him. Oh sh*t…she had woken up and was now sitting up to look at him better. He tried to turn his face away before he was captivated by those blue eyes. The same exact eyes as Alfred's... oh god… he stared at her, her short blonde hair framing her face messily. The only thing that she was missing was the curl. But last night… if England just closed his eyes last night he could pretend… he sucked in a breath.

"it's nothing, I'm fine." it was funny how that was the most common lie. The thing that was just natural to say. Of course she didn't believe it.

"oh…?" she pried.

"it was just a dream….about something that…happened in the past." He looked up at the ceiling, trying to push the images of Alfred out of his mind. It wasn't good that he was thinking of him again. He should just give up…but he knew that he wouldn't be able to do that. _ I love Alfred. I love him too much to just give up on him…_

"oh?"

"that's it." That was all the information that he was going to give this girl. She sighed and rolled back onto her back.

"was it about Alfred?" she questioned suddenly. England sat bolt upright and looked down at her his face burning. How did she know about America? She laughed.

"last night you said his name. a lot. And then….well you talk in your sleep. I'm an insomniac." Oh sh*t… England began to wonder if he had said anything that might give away the fact that he was a country. That America was…America? Did he say America? Oh no… this wasn't good. "it's okay though." She continued, "I support yaoi so I think that it's absolutely adorable how much you love him! But…something bad happened between you and him didn't it…?" The blonde pouted. "well its okay cause that always happens. It's usually the climax of the story, and then the guys relies how much they love each other, and they have to go through some kind of trial before they f*ck and make up, and live happily ever after!" this girl was on crack. England felt sick. "hey… are you okay?" The nation swallowed.

"yeah…I will be…" he breathed, sliding himself out of bed. He needed to go to the hospital now. To see Alfred. Maybe he dreamt of him too. Maybe they would f*ck and make up, just like this girl seemed to think…

Her blue eyes watched him as he put on new clothes.

"you're leaving me here?" she asked.

"yeah."

Silence.

"fine, but I'm eating all of the food in your mini fridge, and I'm ordering a movie so…have fun!" England shook his head. That probably would have been Alfred's reaction as well… so was a lot like him, that would explain why he chose such a flat chested woman.

"yeah yeah…" she was already flipping through the channels on the hotel room's television. Arthur sighed, and pushed open the door, already dreading the day ahead of him. Though with such a horrible start to it…he could only go uphill from now right? Wasn't that what America was always ranting about?

Suddenly he remembered something—

"Molly—."

"it's Meagan."

"right… sorry." He rubbed his forehead. Well that was rude…he didn't even remember her name…but then again. It didn't really matter now did it? "Meagan—."

"done worry~" she gave him a thumbs up. "I'll be gone before you get back~ have fun!"

He looked back at her, his incredibly large eyebrows raised. She was an odd one…he smiled slightly, reminded of Alfred, and shook his head.

"yeah…" he muttered, walking out of the room, and shutting the door behind him. "fun…"

England set off down the hall, struggling to force the images of Alfred out of his mind. That dream was really the last thing that he needed. Wanted to be held by America was not an option anymore. _Dammit_! The tears began welling in his eyes again, threatening to spill over. He blinked them back furiously.

As he entered the elevator he slammed his fist into the wall, not caring if he wasn't alone.

"Alfred…."

* * *

"OKAY!" America grinned as he directed the wounded Canadians into the convention center. The people were being fed and sheltered. The wounded were being treated. And the dead…well, those were handled by Russia. The American shuddered slightly as he pointed soldiers to the construction sites. They had been working on repairing the nation for a few months now and finally they were getting somewhere!

Psssshhh~ it was because Alfred was the HERO! And he was just awesome like that. He gloated for a second before a loud, annoying voice broke into his thoughts—

"A-MA-RI-CA~" France. The older Frenchman came up behind him, running his fingers under America's shirt, bad touching him.

"good morning to you too France!" he smiled, and slipped away from him. Man…Francis really needed to learn what personal space was. Cause in America, it was one arms length. Always, if you're meeting someone or just talking to someone you weren't very close to, then you stood one arms length away naturally. The Frenchman totally violated these unspoken rules.

"have you seen England~?" he questioned, looking around anxiously for the brit. Alfred raised an eyebrow, was something going on between them? No…it wasn't possible. France was…France .and Iggy would never stoop down that low…. Would he?

_Not that I care…_

America looked around for the said man with no luck. "no…" he responded, finding himself somewhat disappointed. France smiled widely at him, nudging him with an elbow.

"You sound upset~ could it be that you _miss_ him?" what was he trying to get at? Alfred didn't understand.

"no. why would I?" France let out a long exasperated sight, and stared off into the distance before finally responding.

"Never mind. It is too bad really…" the older man waited a reaction that he was never going to get, and then finished. "England not being here yet that is."

America pouted, and threw his hands onto his hips childishly. "I know! He should be here helping out too!" that didn't seem to be the reaction francis wanted…but it was true. England should be helping! They needed to get Canada to wake up! And this is how they were going to do it. Russia had even said that Mattie was getting better! Because Russia was amazing and he knew things like that.

Alfred had been so happy when the Russian had told him that, his brother was going to be alright. It wasn't like England had said; the Canadian was going to be perfectly fine!

"hey." A somewhat somber voice said from behind him. There was only one person who tha could be—

"Iggy!" America exclaimed, whirling around to face the other man with a wide grin. England looked…more upset than usual…the brit's face was emanating heat, and his eyes were rimmed red. Like he'd been— wait…HAD he been crying? WHY had he been crying? What happened to him? Why was America suddenly finding himself so worried?

The Englishman didn't even look up at him, he just kept staring at the ground, like it was something extremely interesting. "good morning America…" the name sounded wrong on England's lips. "sorry I'm late…" _Should I ask? _ Alfred wondered.

"Why are your eyes red?" France beat him to it, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. You know…France was really a creeper... wasn't he?

"allergies…" England answered, rubbing at them. Now America knew the man well enough the KNOW that he didn't _have_ allergies. But he didn't comment on that fact. The Frenchman froze, seeming to sense something that any normal person wouldn't be able to. He began to rake his eyes up and down England as he sucked in a breath, and sighed heavily.

The disappointment in the Frenchman's eyes was apparent as he shook his head. "Arthur….again?" Green eyes snapped up.

"shut your mouth Francis." He warned, his voice turning dark. .making that accent of his all the more sexy…America blinked, and continued to watch the pair argue.

"I do not think so dear, that is some bullsh*t way to compromise." Wait…compromise? For what? Alfred was suddenly curious as to what they were talking about.

"SHOVE IT!" the Englishman burst out. France just stared at him coolly before retorting.

"I think that you have already done enough of that."

"you know what francis, you should have NOTHING against this. You are the one always doing it."

"yes, but I do not have a love as you do." Emerald green eyes shot to Alfred's quickly, but the younger nation was oblivious to the glance. He was just wondering what the hell they were talking about. Love? Shoving it? What the hell?

"this is none of your business France." England's voice was low and dangerous. The Frenchman was about to say something when America's curiosity got the best of him.

"guys?"

"NO. America." Both European's spat at the same time. Blue eyes went from one to the other. Alfred wanted to know!

"sorry man…but…what are you two talking about?" silence—

"well Iggy here actually~"

BAM! And France hit the ground.

"nothing of your concern Alfred, get back to work." The messy-haired blonde man said quickly before turning to walk off. America fell into step beside him although it was apparent that the Englishman wanted to be away from him.

"Where are you—."

"none of your business."

"that's a load of crap Iggy and you know it. Nothing in my business now is it?"

England stopped and turned around to face the American, his eyes searching his face in a somewhat familiar way.

"actually it IS your business Alfred." He said at last. Fury rose in America. if it was his damn business then why wouldn't England tell him!

"then why—."

The harsh jade eyes stared into blue ones.

"because you don't deserve to know."

England turned away, and continued on without America on his heels, leaving the younger nation there feeling…horrible.

**UGH! B*TCH!

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now how did you like THAT? hahahaha** please review!**

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	7. somebody had better tell me SOMETHING!

**DISCLAIMER:** i do not own Hetalia. never have. hahaha

thank you all so much for reading this! all of this time i was like...no body is reading it...*sobs* but then i checked my email and was almost in tears to find how many of you there are! i thank you all so much! *tears up and embraces you guys* sorry this chapter took so long! ^_^" i've been trying to write it for a while now. but typing it is so much more difficult than my little yellow book it is all written in~ **PLEASE REVIEW!** i will love you forever~

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Well England was a stupid jerk. That was that. But on the bright side, Canada was talking! In his sleep of course but he seemed to be getting so much better. It was fantastic! They had even moved him to one of the now many working Canadian hospitals. Alfred couldn't wait until the day—

"OMG America!" yes. France actually came running out in all of his sparkles using the very American term OMG. Shocking. The American blinked in surprise as the Frenchman neared him, a wide grin on his face as he babbled on about something in French. Apparently something really exciting had happened. But seeing as America knew Spanish better than he did French and the other man was speaking at a rate which…America had only achieved in the 50s. Really fast….America didn't even attempt a translation…Man if only he had insta-subtitles…

"whoa." He laughed, stopping the other man. "France. English please?" Francis stopped and took in a deep breath.

"Canada is awake!"

"ZOMFG!" America jumped high, grinning from ear to ear. Yes! Finally!

"I know right?"

"Can you two stop speaking in retard language? If you are going to use English. Please. Do use it correctly." Neither of them took any notice of the British man who stood a few feet away. For a second America stopped, still bubbling, but more on simmer as he wondered if the Frenchman was joking.

"Wait…is he REALLY awake?"

"No America, he's lying to you." England muttered with that dry sarcasm that he just couldn't seem to drop. Even on happy occasions. Still, half of America believed him and he felt his face fall and his heart sink.

"I... I was just kidding you twit!" England stammered a bit guiltily. "He IS awake and he wants to see you…" Green eyes shifted downwards.

"CHYESSSSS!" Alfred was yet again bubbling over with happiness. It felt like his whole body had just been lifted into the sky. Mattie was okay! He was awake!

The blond raced down the hospital halls, ignoring the protests of the nurses. He didn't think that he would have been able to stop even if he tried. And he didn't want to try either. It was like there was a magnetic pull letting him fly to his twin.

Alfred burst through the door.

"MATTIE!" he cried.

The younger twin sat up in the hospital bed and gave America one of his sweet smiles. The smile that America had been longing to see for the past couple of months that they'd spent working on rebuilding the Canadian country. Finally all that work had paid off. Canada was awake. He was okay! Happiness bubbled up in the American.

"Hey America." Matthew said softly.

Alfred grinned, the tears of happiness filling his eyes. No longer could he resist the urge to run up and glomp the poor Canadian.

"AH! Hahahaha" The both fell back onto the bed laughing. Alfred clung to his younger twin tightly.

"Mattie, it's so good to see you awake, you don't even know…" he murmured though his tears. The other man's hands slid up to his back and patted it comfortingly. Alfred couldn't help it. He was just so… happy. "You don't even know…"

There was a long silence as Canada and America just sat there hugging. Relishing in the fact that they were able to be with each other, that their twin wasn't lost to them. Canada seemed to relies something and hugged the American closer.

"Thank you Al." Canada's hands stoked America's softly as his brother pulled away and gave him a funny look. "You saved me right?"

Right. Alfred put his forehead against his twin's, and grinned.

"Yeah, because I'm the hero." Canada smiled affectionately.

"My hero."

"You know it."

They pulled away from each other and just sat on the white sheets of the hospital bed, eyes meeting. America just sat there staring at his brother; a smile on his face as he gazed into those eyes that were such a deep blue that they seemed purple. It was good to see those eyes open and staring back at him, _finally…finally_…

Suddenly those very eyes went wide as he gasped.

"Alfred! The war!" there was suddenly a fear in those indigo eyes**. **

_Like he is reliving the events of the war_…

Seeing the panic in his twins face, Alfred hugged him again.

"It's okay Mattie…" he whispered, softly stroking his twin's blond hair. "It's all over now… all over…" he pulled back with a grin. "We won ya know." Briefly Matthew's eyes searched America's face. At last he smiled, tears welling up in his eyes, the utter relief apparent.

"Thank God…" the war had been a lot on the Canadian… more so than any of the other countries. He had been the least prepared, and his country had been the main battleground… when they had brought him back…well no…Alfred didn't REMEMBER when they brought him back. He internally cursed.

Well America ASSUMED that when they had brought him back he had been in horrible condition. But then again…he couldn't be entirely sure.

"Al, what happened when after—."

The American drew in a breath. "I don't know Mattie…" he was given a strange look, and suddenly his wins eyes darkened with a somehow knowing sadness.

"Alfred…Where is England?" there seemed to be more in this question than what had been asked, but since America had no idea what that was-cause nobody would tell him why they ALL took on that look- he just shrugged.

"I dunno. At his apartment? Naw… he's probably heard about you waking up and is on his way."

"Well…" his twin searched for a way to phrase what he was going to say. "Why…isn't he with you?" his soft voice was somewhat accusing. America looked around, searching for something to respond with.

"Cause he's…not…? Why would he be with me?"

The Canadian blinked. "Why would he….Why _wouldn't_ he be with you?" Matthew was confused, his brow scrunching.

"I…don't know…he just wouldn't."

"But aren't you two…?"

"What?"

"You know… during the war…you…and he…" The younger twin fumbled for something to say as Alfred stared at him as if he were trying to say that two and two make five. Nothing was connecting in his mind. If anything HAD happened in the war, it was out of Alfred's grasp.

"America does not remember anything from the War." Russia stepped into the room, his large feet not making any sound. Canada stared at him, not entirely comprehending what the Russian was saying. Russia looked at America; his smile-as usual- was creepy and much too fake. The whole creepy essence of the Russian couldn't even be put to words. Yeah, he was just that weird. Stupid Commie. The American watched him resentfully. This man knew something that he didn't, and he wasn't going to tell him.

The flames of fury tore through America, as they so often did when people talked about the war these days. It was unbearable to be in the dark. He was the light, being in the dark wasn't right for him! Dammit! No, he _didn't_ remember anything. Nothing. And NOBODY was telling him a DAMN thing! And that royally pissed. Him. off. How come they could all know, but he couldn't. even when it involved him more than them.

Alfred wanted to break into a fit of hissing and yelling. He wanted to throw a tantrum just seeing the Russian's smug face. At last he couldn't take it anymore.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED IN THE DAMN WAR!" those violet eyes just stared down at him with a kind of annoyed patience. Like his was waiting for the American to throw his fit, and then sit back down in a huff. Because god knew that he wasn't going to get what he wanted. No matter how much he screamed, and kicked, and begged.

"You must figure that out for yourself little American. I am not permitted to tell you anything." Not permitted to… what—? This was bull. Bull! And he was NOT little!

"Well you might not be able to tell, but Canada—!" he whirled around to face his brother who was staring at him with wide, blank eyes.

"Al…You…You don't remember…?"

"Yes!" He burst. "I mean no! I mean—ugh! DON'T REMEMBER ANYTHING OKAY? I've said it a million times! God! Do YOU?" he was fed up with this. REALLY fed up with this.

"Yeah…I…Why wouldn't I remember?" the nation's indigo eyes went downcast.

"if you do, then tell me!" The American pleaded, grabbing ahold of his brother's Johnny. Careful to avoid Alfred's eyes Canada searched Russia's face like he needed help to think of what to say.

"No…" he said at last. "nothing happened Alfred….nothing… all that important."

"Come ON! Tell me what happened. I know that you're lying Matthew. I can see it in your face, and you won't look at me. Please…_Please_ tell me?" Canada's chest rose with a sharp inhalation of breath. America could see the things that he was internally debating on clearly written on his face.

He was wondering if he should tell him or not!

_You're my darling twin Brother. You love me. of course you should tell me. _

The Canadians lips moved, forming words unspoken. Alfred tried to figure out what he was saying, but of course it was in French. Just like this morning. Man…he really needed to learn better French…

"Dammit! What is it?" Matthew blinked just now becoming aware that he was being yelled at again.

"I…you…" he trailed off.

"Me?" He pushed.

"Eng…" Canada stopped and bit at his bottom lip, unsure if he should go on. Ugh!

"England?" America guessed. "Okay. What about England?"

The other twin looked away for a second. Russia was watching them intently, an amused look on his face. He was waiting to see what kind of reaction Canada would have. _This sucks…_ America internally grumbled. Everything was being ruined by this DAMN secret. What did they have against him?

"England…helped us fight." The blond finished lamely, turning his head towards Alfred. "That's all."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes." He swallowed.

"And that is what everyone was keeping from me. I already knew that." He leered at his twin. "There is more to it that you aren't telling me. Russia stepped closer to them, moving America's fingers off of Canada's shoulders where they had been tightly clutching. Oops…

"Da." The Russian said, the smile on his face growing. "Canada, there is more." The Russian placed a hand on Canada's arm and looked down at him. "Why do you not tell him?" Alfred watched his brother stiffen, and look desperately around the room.

"Um…"

"Yeah." America frowned. "Why _don't_ you tell me?"

"I…uh…" He breathed. "Okay. Okay. Okay… and…"

"And?"

"And you…" Canada swallowed. "You—."

"Matthew!" The accent was easily recognized. England was finally here. Good, maybe he could clear some things up.

"AH!" Canada jumped, his eyes darting around to the door. He swallowed. "Uh…Hi England…" The nation's smile was forced as he watched the British man enter the room.

"It's good to see you finally awake." England smiled back at the Canadian.

"Yeah…ha…ha…"

Alfred smirked, getting up off of the bed and striding over to his thickly browed friend.

"Hey Iggy!" He bubbled, coming close to the older nation. The messy Blond stared at him perplexed by the sudden warmness the other was showing him. _Good_. This was all part of America's plan to trick England into telling him what had happened. People are stupid; given proper motivation, almost anyone will believe almost anything. It was the wizard's first rule. He was sure the Englishman would enjoy that one.

"Hello…Alfr—America." He blinked and shook his head. The American's grin grew.

"so, we were just discussing what went on during the war." He was so clever. England was going to spill it all now!

"Wh…What?" the man's large brow furrowed and he looked accusingly past America to Russia and Canada.

"You know." Alfred nudged him with a small laugh. "What happened between me and you?" He let himself trail off, awaiting England's response. God he was brilliant!

The other man gasped, his green eyes widening.

"You—" There was some kind of glimmer in his eyes. Hope? But he just stopped and stared at America, his face growing cold…Until he was glaring at the younger nation. Alfred felt like he shrunk a little under that gaze… England looked pissed at him, like he was a child who had just done something horribly wrong.

"Don't you BS me America. You don't remember sh*t. I'd _know_ if you did."

"What do you mean by that?" The American gritted his teeth and locked eyes with the Brit.

The tension in the air was visible. England and he had done this many times when they argued. Nothing ever good came out of it. Not that he could remember.

"He means that—" Russia began, suddenly by Alfred's side. How was the big man so silent whenever he walked? Whatever the Russian had been about to say was cut off by the sharp glare England shot at him.

Russia stopped and just smiled. America's patience was growing thin. His smile long since disappeared from his face. It seemed that every single freakin time _someone_ was going to try to explain _something_ they were stopped. What could have happened in the war that England didn't want America to know about so badly?

"That WHAT?" Alfred shouted. "_Somebody_ tell me _something_ now." He took a deep breath in. "Or. Else." The American's voice dropped down to a low growl. Canada looked at America and moved uncomfortably on the bed.

There was a long silence as they thought of how they were going to answer Alfred. It annoyed the American to no end how they had to sit there THINKING about what LIES they were going to feed him.

He wasn't going to swallow it anymore.

Russia stepped closer to him, the smile on his face growing larger. Violet eyes twinkling with amusement… "How about I tell you America?" The American whirled to face look at him.

"Please do." He responded coolly.

Russia's eyes softened at the harsh tone America had used with him, and his smile became warmer.

"Oh how I miss your insults Little American."

"I Didn't insult you, you Commie Bastard."

"Was that not an insult? Capitalist Pig."

"Ugh Red—"

"GUYS!" The soft voice was louder than usual. "Stop fighting…" They shifted their eyes to Canada, and Russia's smile changed slightly.

"I was not fighting with America. We were simply…" He shot a look at England, Leaning even closer to Alfred. Wh— Alfred wasn't even going to wonder. They obviously were not going to tell him anything. If he wanted information he was going to have to figure it out for himself. "…Showing our affection for one another." The Russian finished in a velvety voice. "isn't that Right America?"

America could see the look of shock on England's face fade into a 'I am so going to kill you' look.

"Ummm… Russia… I don't know about you but… in my country that is not how we show our affection." The Russian smirked, and took America's chin in his hand and tilted his face upwards.

"Then…" He murmured bringing his face close to America's. "How do you show your affection," His lips nearly brushed Alfred's "America?"

"You…" he mumbled incoherently, getting lost in the intoxicating scent that he had never noticed the Russian had. His eyes fluttered closed. Russia made a satisfied noise.

"STOP!" The voices nearly harmonized as both Canada and England cried out. Russia was five feet away in a split second, leaving America standing there baffled and cold. Damn… Russia really was like a vampire…

"you were going to tell him something, not make out with him." England breathed sharply. Russia was grinning at him, amusement clearly displayed on his face.

"I do not feel like telling him anymore England. How about you tell him?"

Silence.

"Well somebody had better tell me something." Alfred said annoyed.

More silence as the tension between Russia and England grew.

"I can't." England finally answered.

"And why is that?" The Russian pressed.

"Because…" England sighed, obviously torn over this fact. "He has to figure it out himself."

"Yeah?" America stood up, stepping close to England. "Well that is too DAMN bad England because I'm NOT going to remember .it" with those words America would see the English nation breaking. _Why does this affect him so much? Could it be that something…_

_Something happened between us? _

"Somebody had better tell me. And soon cause—"

"YOUFELLINLOVE!" Canada blurted out. Alfred whirled around. _What?_ They were all staring at him. England had stopped breathing.

_I fell in love? What? Who? How… during the war…why wouldn't I be able to remember something like this? DAMN IT! _

Alfred's mind whirled. How was that possible? Wars were bloody things. Falling in love would not be an option… would it?

His eyes narrowed suspicious at his brother.

"With who?" He said slowly, scrutinizing Canada's face. The nation was looking down at the hospital sheets, biting his lips, his cheeks dusted with red.

"W-With…" He hesitated, looking up to meet Alfred's eyes.

"Spit it out!"

America moved closer to the Canadian. His brother's indigo eyes looked desperately into his own. Searching. Wondering what to say. Would he lie? No… Alfred could see that his brother was on the verge of breaking.

"With…"

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are you on the edge of your seat? MWAHAHAHA i love being evil. wow, i referenced two books in this chapter...hahaha ^_^" oh! and sorry about the crackness at the beginning with France and America. wow...haha if you review i will be so happy~( i might even get the next chapter in quicker~) ;b haha love you guys!


	8. Stolen

DISCLAIMER: i do not own Hetalia... hahaha

sorry for the wait guys. have i been getting them up every week? i think so...though i may be mistaken...well anyways~ i hope that you all enjoy this chapter. *smirks evilly*

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No! No! NO!

_America has to figure it out on his own! Don't tell him…he needs to remember—_

England thought desperately. Many times over had he thought that maybe it would be best to tell America, that it would be easier. But he knew the other man well enough to know that being told something like that wouldn't work well. And what if he didn't believe him? What if he laughed at him and told him that he could never love the Englishman? That would be horrible.

His emerald eyes searched Alfred's face, his mouth opening and closing. Matthew looked torn. Arthur bit his lip, willing his voice to rise out of his throat. He would tell him, he decided.

"With me,"

_Wait—what? _

Russia stepped forward grinning creepily. England suddenly realized what was happening, dread knotting cold and cruel in his stomach. England's eyes went wide as he turned to look at the large Russian.

_Oh __**NO**__ he didn't._

America's blue eyes widened as he looked at the Russian.

"You?" Alfred seemed all at the same time disbelieving and entirely trusting that it was fact. Could he really have seen it happening?

NO! everything suddenly dawned on England. He should have told him sooner! He should have said that the one American fell in love with was him. **Him**! _Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t! _

Alfred had a mystified look in his eyes. That look should not be there. He should be more skeptical. _Could you seriously be buying this Alfred? No! Stop it!_ England longed to shout something out, but he couldn't seem to find his voice. All that he could do was stand there slack jawed and staring. HE could see the look at Russia was giving America, and England did not like it. So full of love… For ENGLAND'S Alfred.

Icy purple eyes suddenly slid to England's and the Russian smiled smugly. He knew that England wouldn't do anything. America was his now. That is what his eyes kept saying— Screaming in Arthurs's mind.

_Because I didn't move quickly enough…_

"yes," Ivan spoke sweetly, moving closer to America.

_**ENGLAND'S**_ America.

"NO!" The Brit's voice was cracked and broken; quickly he moved his hand up to his mouth as blue eyes blazed into his.

Those eyes tore at England's soul… if looks could kill…America was trying to kill England….and….England would have lay down right there and died willingly… but looks couldn't kill, no matter how much England wanted to just curl up in a ball and die…

"You are the _last_ person that I am going to believe England."

Those words…so cold... Russia didn't even bother to look at him. England's heart skipped a beat. Alfred's words were like a silver knife lodged with brute force into England's chest.

He was the last person that America would trust…

_I suppose that is reasonable…_ he thought somberly …_After the way that I acted towards him…_ But Arthur just could wrap his mind around it… why Russia? He hadn't expected something like this from the Russian.

"Alfred…." England began, swallowing back emotion.

"Don't." America glared.

"Al…" A soft voice broke through the chilled atmosphere. It came from the bed. Right…Canada was here. He was awake. How rude they were being…_But_ England supposed as they all turned to him. _He must be used to this already… _

"Oh, hey Canada!" Alfred laughed and smiled warmly at the Canadian. It wasn't fair. THAT was the smile that he had given to England.

_The one that should still be mine…if he only remembered…_

"You…you really don't remember _anything_ now do you?" Matthew's voice was surprisingly resentful… like he was on England's side. But that didn't stop England from being mad at him. He was the one who had started this. If it wasn't for the stupid Canadian—

_What? _

That wouldn't make Alfred any more his…

America looked flustered, his cheeks dusted pink. The American was biting his lip, his blue eyes blazing as he curled and uncurled his fists. The anger was tangible.

"I'm getting there Matt! I'm _trying_ to remember!" He whirled to face Russia, looking up with big puppy dog eyes. "Ivan is going to help me, right?" It was killing England to see that America actually believed the Russian.

Calling him Ivan.

Looking at him with those blue eyes that England had always found himself drowning in.

"Right?" America tried again; Russia looked down at him with a genuine smile on his face. It made him look beautiful when he smiled like that. England was losing hope more and more every minute. America could probably actually fall for him…

"Right America." The silky sweet tones of his voice caused England to snap.

"Russia." Arthur growled. The other man's smile faltered, and slipped back into that fake smile that he showed everyone.

"England." The tall man responded. The was a cocky look in his violet eyes, he knew that he had beaten England, he was just basking in the triumph. And it was horrible. "I assume you wish to speak with me, am I correct?" He smirked.

Arthur swallowed heavily, and fought back the rising hatred. Russia had just made a new enemy.

"Yes." He said bitterly. Quickly he walked to the door, knowing that Russia was right behind him. England could practically hear the Russian thinking. 'When am I not?' as they stepped out into the hallway. He made sure that the door was shut tightly before he whirled on Ivan.

"_**You bloody wanker**_! Why did you do that?" He didn't try to hide the venom in his voice. He was pissed.

Icy violet eyes narrowed as Russia looked down on the angry British man. England could imagine that they were like a hissing kitten trying to stand up to a bull dog. He was so powerless… The Russian glared down at him; though it may not have been a glare…you couldn't tell with the big man…

"You were not taking any action. America was looking for an answer, as long as it served a purpose and when Canada said what he said you did not step up." Violet eyes darkened. "So I did."

England took a step back, his mouth thrown open in shock. His back his the door and for a moment he worried that it would alert the attention of Alfred, but that really wouldn't matter anymore…He glared at the Russian.

"So you are trying to say that this is MY FAULT?" England cried out.

There was a pause as Russia looked over his head at the door, and then icily down at England.

"I suggest that you lower your voice, or they will overhear—"

"I don't care!" The Englishman began to lower his voice despite what he said. Russia raised an eyebrow, in a '_really_?' sort of way. England felt like he had been slapped in the face. Not that he hadn't before…it's just…it was as if he was slapped multiple times. "This ISN'T my fault! None of it." He could taste the lies in his voice. He knew that he was making it up. It _was_ his fault…

Russia knew this as well…

"Then, may I ask England," Russia said coolly, "What were your reasons, for not telling Alfred that you were the one he fell in love with?"

"I…" England struggled for the words, but his throat was dry… The big man was suddenly very intimidating.

"Could it be that you do not love him anymore?"

"NO! I—"

"Then why did you not tell him, even though he has been practically begging you to all this time. Alfred—"

"Stop calling him that!"

The Russian sneered down at him, taking a step forward.

"Why?"

"Because!" England faltered. "He… he's…_My_ Alfred…"

"I do not think so England. If he was truly yours then we would not be having this conversation. You would not be feeling as crushed as you are right now. You hate me, Da? That is to be expected. But if Alfred was yours… then you would have told him he was." The knife seemed to be moving deeper into England's heart, despair welling in him as he fought back tears. The Russian knew too much. It was horrible, like Ivan knew exactly what he was thinking. That he was inside of England's head….

"He was going to remember it on his own!" The brit shouted at last. Russia just smiled his eerie smile.

"No England. That is where you are wrong. He would have only remembered if told." England's stomach churned.

_He's lying…_

"I am not lying." Russia said, yet again inside of his mind. "If you would have told him, then there was a good chance that he would have been able to begin gradually remembering it. With some information, more would have come."

_It's impossible…there is no way that it can be that easy… Russia is lying. He's lying! Alfred would have… No. There was just no chance. _

"Liar." England accused.

"Call me whatever you wish. I do not care. It is your fault for not taking the opportunity the many times it arose. And though you had wanted to, you still clung on to that hopeless fantasy that he would have remembered everything magically some day. It is my turn now. I told you before that if you were not careful I would take him from you."

_Yes… _England shook his head.

"Da, you do. During the war."

"yes…" England sighed. It had been a few days after America and England's first night together. But…Russia had seemed to be joking then… he had even congratulated them…

_He wasn't __**actually**__ in love with America…was he?_

"You can't be serious." England swallowed and stared blankly up at the pale haired nation.

"I am completely serious England. I have loved America for a very long time now—"

"I've loved him longer!" The British man shouted childishly. Russia appeared unfazed by the outburst as he just looked down at him with those horrible violet eyes.

"The length of time does not matter here England. It is not a contest of 'who has loved who longer' but of 'who has stronger feelings'."

"But—"

"No. I will not give him to you just because you decided not to tell him soon enough."

"HE DOESN'T EVEN ACTUALLY LOVE YOU!" England's voice yet again rose over the safety level, dripping and cracking with ill hidden emotion.

Ivan's eyes suddenly looked very distant and sad as his smile faltered. Though it was just a brief flicker of emotion England saw it. He _saw_ the thousands of years of sadness the Russian had inside of him. If England didn't absolutely abhor him at the moment, he might have felt bad for the larger nation. Pitied him even…

Even though he himself hated to be pitied.

"I know…" Russia said at last, his smile sad and broken. "But I am fine with that. As long as I have him by my side… I will be happy…I do not care if he actually loves me. He will—eventual—"

"NO!" England slammed his fist into the other man's face. It was like hitting a wall… The Russian didn't even react to it. "No," He said again, struggling to fight back the tears. "He will never truly love you Russia. He loves me. Me! And there will come a time when he remembers that fact." He growled.

"And if he doesn't?"

"I—then…UGH! He just WILL!" England's fist connected with the door this time and he drew in a shaky breath.

_Damnit!_

"Guys…" The door opened and Canada stuck his head out through the crack. "Is… everything… alright?"

_No. _England wanted to shout. _No…it's not okay…_

Russia smiled at the Canadian.

"Yes Canada, everything is fine, there is no need to worry about it."

Canada looked the two of them over yet again, and sighed. He knew that Russia was lying.

"Alright…" And with that, he slipped back into the hospital room.

"I'm going home." England decided, setting off down the hall.

"Oh?" Russia smirked. "All the way back to your country?" He asked, Violet eyes boring into Arthur's skull. England whirled on him.

"Yes, I am. Alright! I am not needed here anymore anyways! I can't stay here forever now can I!" He turned back around as he felt the tears welling in his eyes.

_Sh*t_

He didn't want to let the Russian see him cry, he needed to be strong.

_Just until I am away from them…_

"Fine by me, goodbye England. I will tell Alfred and Canada of your leaving."

England wanted to run. He wanted to just get away from the Russian as soon as possible. Away from Canada…And Alfred…But he needed to get back to his hotel first. As he briskly walked down the halls he tried to control his breathing. It was fail. He could only keep the tears back for so long, and as he reached to Elevator he was already beginning to break down. When the doors opened, he saw that the elevator was empty his walls fell down. And he broke apart, collapsing to the floor of the metal box.

For just a second he let everything go, and the sobs shook his body violently. The tears flooded down his face and England bit his lip. Small noises came out of his throat. They sounded like they were from someone else. These sounds were too broken… His eyes burned, his nose ran. He hated life. Everything was just too cruel. Russia was right. And that sliced his heart into shreds.

_I want Alfred…want his arms around me… _

The sobbing became uncontrollable, he drew in breath after breath to try and stop it before the doors opened. He needed to compose himself.

Russia had done exactly what he had said he was going to do and it was all England's fault.

_He stole the only person in the world England had truly loved. _

And with a broken voice England murmured his beloveds name…

"Alfred…"

* * *

Aww poor England...Stupid Jerk Russia.

Alfred: Commie Bastard!

~ hahaha do you all hate me now? I promise things will get better. haha or will they? will England ever get America back? well...this IS a USUK story. what do you think of Russia right now? i kind of feel bad for the next chapter will be more fun~


	9. God has a cruel sense of humor

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia.**

**ahh~ i may or may not piss you guys off with this chapter. let me know your reactions at the end if i did. haha man this Chapter is long! I'm proud of myself for that one~ And i believe that i uploaded fairly quick~ *grins* i hope you enjoy this Chapter!

* * *

**

The Clock smashed against the apartment wall with brute force, shattering into tiny metallic pieces and cogs. America let out a loud groan and sat up, clenching his teeth in frustration. The blond had woken up in a cold seat, and was now breathing heavily. Ugh!

"_IT DOESN'T MATCH UP!_" Unwanted tears burned in the American's cerulean eyes. He clutched his blanket to himself digging his fingers into the comforter. _**Why**_? His dreams didn't make sense to him anymore. They had begun to change and shift into a time where there was war… But it must be the war he had forgotten, for he didn't recognize it from anywhere else. The battle field was most defiantly the one they had just spent FOREVER repairing. Or at least what he has seen…

* * *

_He was walking on a flat field of dirt, dust and snowflakes dancing though the chilled Canadian air. Despite the brutality of the war, things were becoming better, and maybe it was almost over. America sure hoped so as he smiled down—no __**up**__ at Russia as the snow swirled around him. It was a good thing that they had Russia on their side. The large man was hard to fight against, and he was extremely brutal, and of course, having him meant that they had at Belarus who could-and probably did-kill her enemies simply by looking at them. As he was sure she had tried to do to him many times. But she couldn't kill a HERO with a glare. No, he was just way too awesome for that~_

_Glowing green eyes met his, and the Russian slipped his hand into the Americans with a small and genuine smile. A smile so full of love that it made America feel suddenly warm, even though it was snowing… America's heart sped up, and blush coloured his cheeks, making him feel somewhat childish. He couldn't believe that the older nation felt the same way about him! It made the American feel as though he could fly, as if he has grown wings and could soar with the angels and fairies that—_

_**That he loves so much?**_

_That couldn't be right…As far as America remembered Russia wasn't too fond of the little fairies…that was England's turf. Russia much preferred the gory stories…_

"_Alfred." The accent sent chills up America's spine. It was just so sexy! He grinned at the love in the way the other man said his name, the way that the man's voice was slipping over him in velvet tones. Alfred found himself-as he did many a time- just staring into the Russian's green eyes, getting lost in those endless fields of love. Love for him._

_The love that he returned. _

_Before he had been able to __**imagine**__what actual love would be like, but finally he wasn't acting. This was a real thing... A true feeling._

_For Ivan._

_An arm wrapped around America's waist and he found himself being pulled into a loving embrace, the other mans lips mere inches from his. He smelt of tea and honey, clover and amazingness… America breathed in the air between them and closed the distance with his lips._

_His hand twined though the messy blond hair—

* * *

_

And that was when Alfred had woken up. Had that truly been one of the memories that he had been longing to remember? If so then why the hell was his mind f*cking with him so badly?

UGH!

IT didn't make any sense. Yes, it was nice that he had fallen in love with Ivan, but Ivan's eyes weren't green, like they were in the dream. Maybe it was the lighting. And Maybe the Russian's strait, perfect hair had been messy because of the fighting…

But then why did he smell like that?

And…and…NOTHING MADE ANY SENSE!

Alfred threw another thing at the wall, the closest thing to him…a pillow… it made only a small sound of impact before it hit the floor. America wanted to curse, scream, cry! He wanted to go back to the times when he was a child, when he didn't have to hold back his emotions and could just cry. Cry When England left him in a cold and lonely house for a long time, Cry when he had gotten sick, but England wasn't there to help him. Cry because he had betrayed the person he cared most for and split away from him! But—

This wasn't about England…

This was about God hating him so much so that when Alfred FINALLY remembered something, it was screw up, and didn't make any sense whatsoever.

Oh HELL no.

America pulled the covers back over his head and brought his face down into his pillow and just screamed. He wanted to just let all of this anger go. Alfred bit back his tears. Part of him knew that something was wrong. But he didn't understand what…UGH! He wanted to hit something….

Where was that Commie bastard?

It was his fault for not making any sense…and changing his eye colour in the dream to confuse Alfred. Must be one of his stupid Communist super powers…

"America?" As if on cue Alfred heard the larger nation walk into the room, even though his footsteps were nearly inaudible. The Russian approached the bed, and gently lifted the covers away from the American's head. His purple-NOT GREEN- eyes widened slightly as they searched Alfred's face. He probably could tell what America was holding back. Alfred knew that he was an open book for the Russian. He could hide anything….

"Is everything okay?" He asked finally, Alfred stared his him through wide baby blues. Russia looked genuinely worried about America. For a moment the American hesitated, and in that moment of silence he was pulled into a sudden embrace. "Alfred?" Alfred closed his eyes and relaxed into his lovers arms.

"Yeah…" He muttered into his chest. "Yeah, I'm good…"

"You are lying America." Russia said soothingly. "You would not have broken the clock if something was not wrong. Do you not wish to tell me?" America shook his head against the fabric of Russia's jacket.

No…..He didn't want to tell Russia all of his problems, they would only make him upset, and besides…

America wanted to figure this out on his own. He didn't want to be told anything.

Not anymore…

The large man released him. "Alright" He smiled warmly down at Alfred. "What do you want to do today?"

So he had decided not to pry…Good

_I didn't want to have to talk about it anyways_

"Dunno." America answered, snuggling closer to Russia.

"We can stay home."

"Mmmnnn." Alfred closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Ivan, surrendering himself to the intoxicating aroma the other man gave off.

"Is that a yes?"

"Mmmmhmmm." The Russian chuckled a little bit, and began to weave his fingers through America's hair. It felt good when someone was running their fingers through your hair, especially if they did it smoothly and with such skill…Especially if they were Russia, and especially if you loved them…

And….America loved Ivan…

Yeah….

_**Love**_….

Russia suddenly leaned back on the bed, taking America with him until the confused blond was on top of him. America gazed down at Russia, wondering if the other man wanted something more than Alfred felt like doing at the moment…

For some reason he couldn't understand, his body was really rejecting those thoughts.

_Why?_

The Russian's cool hands came up and caressed the American's face, bringing it down to his own. Kissing Russia was like…America didn't even bother to think on too much detail. His mind was slowly being sedated by Ivan's gentle lips on his. The misty feel made him wonder…

_How could I have forgotten something like this?

* * *

_

England stormed through the Hotel hallways, unlocking his door and stepping into his room in a huff. The door slammed behind him, harder than it probably should have. The English man hung up his keys, and let himself sink to the floor.

Damnit!

His head was pounding; his eyes were red and irritated from the annoying tears. Men didn't cry. But, he had been sobbing for almost four hours in his car. Even blinking hurt…and every ounce of pain reminding him of Alfred…

And the stupid Russian who had stolen him away… It wasn't fair! America was—

"CHYESSSS!" England's heart skipped a beat. Who was in his apartment? All emotions forgotten, he slowly stood and make his was down the small hall towards his room. How could someone have gotten in? Why were they in his room? And….was that a Wii he heard? Since when did he have one of those?

It occurred to him that maybe it was Francis. The Frenchman DID have a tendency to appear when least wanted. All of his sadness was lost and he bit his lip flames of fury ripping through him.

"Franc—"

He burst into the room and his heart nearly stopped at what he saw. The brown leather jacket, wide blue eyes, and the blonde hair…and… and…

_Impossible…_

"Alfred?"

* * *

Canada lay in the dark hospital room, feeling the scratchy and uncomfortable hospital sheets. Not to mention his pillow…. How could he be expected to fall asleep on something that crunched every time he moved around? And the sound of the machines beeping in his ears allowed him no rest.

He had been forgotten again…He guessed that it was only natural… Though Russia's reaction wasn't expected… why had be done that? Part of Canada just flat out rejected the idea that Ivan would do that. But he had… And…

Why on earth did Alfred believe him?

America and Russia were NOT on good terms. Not good enough for America to actually believe that he had fallen in love with the Russian.

Wait.

Where was Kumajirou?

Come to think of it, Matthew hadn't seen his beloved polar bear in a long time…Suddenly he was really lonely, completely alone in the scary medical room. And he couldn't fall back asleep; he had no escape from the dark room…

But at least the sun was rising and soon he wouldn't be surrounded by the blackness. Left alone in his fears and loneliness... He had already been in the darkness for much too long. Even while he was in the coma is was darkness…darkness and the horrible dreams from the war. He had been forced to relive every moment. The worst moments…

Canada bit his lip and pulled the thin sheets closer to himself. He didn't want to be alone…in fact he wanted to be with someone…to be wrapped in their arms. But that person would never feel anything towards him. Matthew was invisible to them.

And of course…

_He loves someone else…_

Russia sat on the bed with America's head on his lap, moving his fingers through the blond man's silky hair. The younger nation had fallen asleep not too long ago and he was already slipping back into those dreams that tormented him so….

Russia knew that he was remembering things from the war… Things that had happened with England but his mind was trying to make sense out of it by mixing Russia and England together… and in that making the American even more confused…And frustrated… Russia would have to take things away from the bedside from now on. They did not own these things and America should not keep going around breaking them.

Alfred fidgeted in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent. He would wake up again and be confused…

_It's my fault…_

The Russian thought sadly. He felt only a little bit guilty for confusing the American. But if that's what it took to make him his…

It was a small price to pay.

_Because I love him…_

Yes, Russia had loved him for a very long time.

"Eng…." America moved slightly in his sleep. His eyelids fluttered, but he never opened his eyes. Some bits of truth were slipping into the dreams… but Russia knew that they wouldn't be remembered when he awoke. Because that reality was not true in the living world. It seemed that his heart remembered loving England, but awake it was something beyond his comprehension.

Still, hearing the English nation's name muttered so sweetly through Alfred's lips tore at his soul… it was like the universe was telling him that no, Alfred would never become one with Russia…

"America…" Russia murmured, pushing back the younger nation's hair and planting a soft kiss on his forehead. "I love you, and you will never know how much…" He wished that there was a way that he could make America forget completely about the English nation. For that love to be completely erased from the American's being so that Ivan could replace it with himself. Make Alfred love him that way…not through some dirty trick. Not through some way that would have Alfred confused.

_So that way…he will always love me…._

And it wouldn't only be a temporary thing. Russia wouldn't have to fear the day when Alfred woke up with all of his memories.

The American smiled sweetly in his sleep and made a contented noise, rolling over in his sleep, forcing the Russian to lay down so that his stomach could now be used as a pillow.

After only a few moments after the blissful sleep Alfred began to thrash around and cry out until he shot up and everything went silent.

Russia tried to ignore the silent tears slipping down his lovers face as the young man whispered:

"it doesn't make any sense…"

_It shouldn't _Russia thought_ Because… it isn't the truth…

* * *

_

The blonde turned to look at England, blue eyes wide and filled with mischief.

"Hey there Arthur!" England's mind whirled, his pissy mood just becoming pissier.

"WHAT THE _HELL_ ARE YOU DOING IN MY APARTMENT?" He screamed at the girl. She dropped the Wii controlled, which just hit back against her wrist for she had the strap on, and held her hands up.

"Sorry…" She bit her lip. This was the girl that he had slept with not too long ago… was she SERIOUSLY back at his apartment? How long had she been here? Ugh.

_This is NOT alright._

"Sorry doesn't cut it love, what the _f*ck_ do you think you're doing?" England questioned. If he wasn't such a gentleman he probably would have strangled her.

She just stood there; as if she was mocking him… looking nearly the same as his beloved Alfred… it just wasn't fair.

_God has a cruel sense of humor_…

"Well….If sorry doesn't cut it then… I came in through a copy that I made of your key. I went to the front desk and told them your name and that we had misplaced our key. They had seen me come in with you before so they gave me the second key. They really aren't that trustworthy now are they?" She smirked. England cursed the hotel workers and their lack of common sense. Couldn't they have at least asked for his credit card to confirm the account? The girl continued with her story. "So, you weren't here for a few days, and I ordered a Wii. I've been playing Mario Cart! Wanna play?" She grinned. "I'll kick your ass."

There was a twinge of pain in England's heart as he recalled a time when America has said the same thing to him. It was too much to see her looking so much like him!

"Take off that jacket!" He snapped. She looked down at the brown leather and then back up at him with a repressed smile.

"You want me to take it off?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes." He ignored her playful tone, and lowered his voice dangerously. "Now." The blonde could see that he was not in the mood for games. She reached up gingerly taking off the jacket.

"Now," England began. "How did you get a hold of that?"

"I went through your closet."

"WHAT?" He gaped at her. Was she insane? Going through his stuff without asking him? And she had said it like it was no big deal.

"Dude," She laughed. "I'm kidding. This jacket is mine." Hers? What? HE opened his mouth to yell at her, but he was stopped. "Have you ever heard about a thing called cosplay?" The woman questioned. England knew a bit about it yes, but only the little he had heard a while back from Japan…But honestly right now he didn't recall anything but the name… But that didn't really matter right now! How could the jacket be hers if it looked exactly the same as America's jacket? The 50 on the back, the star, the airplane—but wait… it wasn't as worn, in fact as he looked closer at the brown leather jacket, he could see that it was almost new…

"No?" She asked again after observing his face a little more. England sighed and shook his head. "Alrighty… well you know those people who dress up and go to conventions?"

"You mean like comic cons?" But wasn't that Star Wars, and Star Trek, and stuff like that? She didn't look like any of those characters, she looked like America. The English nation was perplexed.

"Yeah!" She grinned. "Except this is Anime and Manga and stuff, ya know?"

"Okay, yeah?"

"Well, me too!" Her too? Meaning that she dressed like the characters… England blinked. That still didn't explain— "Has anyone ever told you that you would make the most _perfect_ England Cosplay?" Meagan bit down on her lip, and bounced with enthusiasm.

England froze and looked at her. How did she know about—

_No_… England stopped himself. _She believes that it is all some kind of ridiculous anime. Okay…_

But still…how the hell was this possible?

He looked back at her and swallowed. "And you are _cosplaying_ America?" The sentence sounded weird to him. But he knew by her reaction that he was right on the bat.

"YEAH! Isn't it fantastic?" She beamed, taking pride in her imitation of England's lover. No. it was most certainly not great. Though she looked exactly like— No, there it was, her smile. She didn't have the same devilish and dimpled smile that Alfred had. So she wasn't _exactly _like him, but still…

"Yes…" He muttered. "A bit too well." That part he hadn't meant for her to hear, but it seemed that she did, and not sensing the emotion in his words she took it as a compliment.

"Thanks!" She swung around the Wii controller so that it landed gracefully in the palm of her hand. "Now, about that game of Mario cart." He sighed and decided to play-at least it would get his mind off of everything…

"Damnit Alfred! No more playing as baby Peach!" England growled as he was once again forced to come in second to the small princess. HE should be winning! He was Bowser and Bowser was HUGE! He should have been able to crush that damn…

He laughter faltered into a more forced chuckle as she heard the name. Crap…he had hardly noticed that he had probably been calling her Alfred for the entirety of the game. The two of them had played like this as well…even though they had always ended up fighting… mainly because of England…

The girl was grinning at him again with an arrogant look on her face. "Well maybe if you stopped choosing heavy characters with huge slow cars like Bowser you would actually stand a chance against me!" Meagan laughed.

"Oh shut up."

"Make me."

England suddenly was brought back to the time a few months back when he and Alfred had been in that restaurant after the other mans recovery. When America had asked him if he really DID want him to make England shut his mouth… England regretted not saying yes. If only he could go back in time… That Damn Russian wouldn't have stolen his lover. And he never would have even gotten a little chance to have.

"No thanks." England smiled politely at her, and put down his Wii controller. The memories had reminded him that he needed to be packing to go back home….

"Arthur…" The blonde began, her voice sympathetic. She must have sensed something in the tone of his voice. It was strange how women seemed to pick up on emotions so easily… She knew that something was wrong with him. But she couldn't see how truly broken he was…

For a moment Arthur let his eyes search her face, searching for the Alfred in it. Yes, his hero was there…

"What's the matter?" She asked again, her voice soft and low.

"Russia!" England cried out, his sanity threatening to rip at the seams. She looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Russia…" She repeated the name and then smiled. "Oh! Well those Commies—but wait…it isn't…" She seemed lost.

"Not the country. He's a person." England muttered, rubbing his temples.

"A man named Russia?" She asked excitedly.

"No. It's a nickname."

"Oh… but you call each other the names of countries? Like Hetalia!" She grinned, her wide eyes sparkling with excitement.

"What are you babbling on about?" His mind still hadn't fully grasped the idea of this _anime_ thing…

"It's okay if you don't know what I'm talking about." She smiled. "Just leave me to my fantasies~" okay then… "As long as THEY know what I am talking about~ Right?" She was looking off into the distance in the way a character from a show does when they are talking to the camera.

"Who are you talking to?" He questioned, really, this girl was something else…

"no one dear, no one…" She smiled knowingly, still gazing off into space.

_Uh…huh…_

England shook his head and moved to the edge of his bed, where his suit case had been sitting for a few days now. There was just a few things that needed packing and—

"What, you're not planning on leaving are you?" She questioned as the suitcase hit the top of the bed and he began to open it.

"Yes." Arthur answered.

"Hmph. Running away from our problems are we?" He glared at her, despite the fact that she was spot on…

"Yes." He finally said. Some morning he would be back in England, and worrying about other things.

About his prisoners of war…

He really was not looking forward to having to harm Japan in any way. They had been friends. But…at least Russia hadn't gotten him. The big man wouldn't have been _nearly_ as merciless.

Yes…tomorrow he would be home…

_Fantastic….

* * *

_

_**Well then~ Did i make you guys mad? I know that my friend whom i test the story on first, before i put it up hates Russia and wants to rip his throat out. I like Russia and kind of pity the poor man. but to each their own. oh! and just for your information, the more you review the more i am motivated to type and add chapters quicker~ *winks* and predictions for the next chapter?**  
_


	10. What happened to them?

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own hetalia.**

**okay, okay, so i'm gettin some hatin on the OC here. hahaha, she is needed for a reason. not just to annoy the hell out of you guys. and don't worry she was SUPPOSED to have broken the fourth wall there. she is the comic relief for this story. she isn't in this chapter. but i do appreciate all of you who reviewed! i love you all! please continue to tell me what you think! i hope you enjoy this chapter at least a little bit...**

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The airport was crowded as England stepped off his plane and searched for the man who was supposed to be there to receive him. He just wanted to go home, and the bloody wanker was nowhere to be seen…once home he would finally be able to relax and forget about Alfred.

Yes….he would forget all about the stupid American. Just like that time during the revolutionary war even though this was much more painful…

_No! Arthur, you need to stop thinking about that ignorant prat! _England told himself, scanning the crowd. There were many faces of people searching for their families who were coming off of the plane.

"Mr. Kirkland?" Arthur's green eyes snapped up and he found himself staring into the face of an old friend. The woman grinned, her brown eyes gleaming as the brown hair tied into pony-tails with red ribbon spilt over her shoulders. The sight of her brought a familiar name to his lips.

"Seychelles." He smiled and embraced the other nation.

"Arthur." She smiled warmly at him as she pulled away. "It's been too long. How have you been?"

"I've been…better." He responded.

Her lips puckered and hugged him again, mussing his already messy blond hair. "Awww….What happened love?" she asked.

England didn't want to talk about it. He was jetlagged and just wanted to rest. His eyes couldn't handle any more crying. If he talked about it…he KNEW that he would start crying again. And he didn't want to show his little Seychelles seeing this weak side of him.

"Mmnnn…" England just shook his head and pulled his suitcase up from the place he had dropped it on the ground.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to…" She pouted, obviously _wanting_ to know. She could _want _as much as she wanted, but that didn't mean she was going to get it. But seeing her sweet face as she pouted at him he grew weak. Maybe he would tell her later… maybe…

Damnit, why was he so weak to the puppy dog pout?

"You _are_ going to tell me." She decided as she turned around and began to walk him toward the car. England sighed, just wanting to go to sleep.

"Later." He grumbled. _Man… _His legs felt as if they were going to give out on him. Though he had been sitting for hours he hadn't once actually fallen asleep. Even though his mind had screamed at him to do so…

literally. Screamed.

I guess that you could say that all the nations had split personalities such as America's North and South.

The two nations exited the airport, going outside to where a shiny black limo awaited them. England couldn't keep himself from just throwing what he had onto the floor, and climbing into the back seat. Oh god…he was tired. The young nation slipped in beside him, and buckled up after a short talk with the chofer.

"So Eng—"

The girl stopped, having heard the light snores of the messy haired blond. England had fallen asleep…

* * *

_The chilled air was finally getting to him as he ran through the battle field searching for Canada. Even though it was upon Alfred's request that he did, England knew that he would have gone searching no matter what… But… The Englishman was slowly losing his faith. _

_It was so hard to see anything amongst all of the dust and dead bodies littering the ground. There were so many dead soldiers…So much blood everywhere…England wasn't entirely sure that they would be able to win this war. It just seemed like too much to hope for— _

_NO! _

_He couldn't be thinking that way._

_**It is no way to win a war Arthur. If you want it, you need to believe in it first…**_

_But there was so much blood… And he could never be sure that Matthew wasn't one of those mangled bodies that lay all around him. Who knows, England could have already passed the dead Canadian… It was definitely a possibility… seeing as he had been searching for hours. And still, there was no sign that Canada had been killed for sure. Through the countless faces imprinted in his mind, those horror stuck, wretched faces, the only image he saw of the young nation's death were the ones he had fabricated. _

_It was horrible really, that so many people could die over a simple disagreement. But England didn't know if this was just a simple disagreement… This was something that China had started against America….Even though he had attacked Canada instead…._

_England saw a head of blond hair, and quickly moved towards it. Half of him hoped that it was Matthew, that he had finally found him, but when he turned the body over he was relieved to find that it was not the young nation. Though he still felt his eyes flutter closed as he tried to shove the images out of his mind. There were so many people he had seen die. _

_Watched die. _

_Killed. _

_Yes, England had killed so many…sometimes for such stupid reasons. Though when it came to killing it didn't really matter…_

_A death was a death. If you have an enemy, and that enemy must be destroyed, be it for the safety of others or for yourself, when the life is gone from their being they are still a human. And that human is still dead. _

_**And you still killed that person…. **_

_It was a thought that still pained England that he had carelessly killed so many, a good amount of them he had cut into their very flesh with his own sword, or dagger. He had felt the life slip from their bodies and seen the desperate look in their eyes as they wished for a longer time on this earth. And they prayed. _

_England despised the way that war would shatter a family, destroying the souls of many with the death of one. _

_He could smell the ashes and flames of the houses he had burnt down, taste the poison he had tainted many drinks with. When it came down to it he was a horrible person. He had killed as many people on his own as there were around him. And he could remember almost every single face. _

_But then again all of the other nations had killed as well at one point or another, even the hero Alfred, even the shy Matthew… _

"_Matthew!" England knew that calling the man's name was all in vain. Canada was gone, and as Arthur walked further and further across the battlefield all hope was shoved out of him. The Canadian must be dead… The lifeless land all around him was proof enough of that. _

_England drew in yet another breath of the dust filled and reeking land, trying to clear his head. "What am I going to tell Alfred?" He wondered aloud. He recalled the American looking at him with puffy red eyes for England to go and look for his beloved brother. Alfred couldn't have gone; he had suffered a great wound himself and needed some time to recover from it. It wouldn't take him too long, but he wouldn't be healed in time to even come close to saving Canada…_

…_**.but I can't save him either…**_

_Saving someone was a hero's job. If Alfred was here he would have found Matthew long ago, and maybe the younger nation would have been okay…_

_**England, stop it! You don't have any actual proof that Matthew is dead. Stop thinking like that…**_

_Right… But England had still kissed America and told him that he would bring him back for him. It seemed now that all of his words would prove to be lies. Alfred would hate him… He would blame himself. That he couldn't save his brother because he was too weak… _

_Telling his love that his brother— His TWIN brother was dead would be like suicide. __**But it's not like I can keep the truth from him…**_

_Arthur let himself take a second to grasp the fact of the young nation's death. If he did this now he would be less devastated by it later, and he wouldn't have to hold back now, with no one watching and a world of time before he had to go back. Still though—_

_Part of him refused to believe that Canada had died. It just didn't seem possible… England had seen the deaths of many nations…. But Canada was different. He was Matthew. The same little Mathew that had sat on his lap and listened to the stories England told him with bright eyes and a wide smile as a child... Whereas Alfred had complained, and told him that his stories sucked because they didn't have good endings. England had thought that they had perfectly reasonable endings…but that didn't stop Alfred from taking them and turning them into the Disney fairytales—_

_But that was a different story, one far more pleasant than what was happening now. He was sure that now Alfred would have wished for England's stories over this war. Any of them would have chosen a bloody fairytale over this broken reality._

_**And now…**__ A single tear slipped down England's cheek as the world seemed to spin. __**Now that child is gone…**_

_England regretted not paying enough attention to him. The times that it had seemed as if the Canadian wasn't even there, the times he had just looked over him without a second though... Even though he had hardly noticed him he had still been there. He was still Canada… _

_**Still the little Mattie that I loved…**_

_**Damnit!**_

_He felt more tears burning in his eyes, more slipping down his dirty face. They were sure to leave stains._

"_What they hell…" His feet kept him moving through the field and suddenly he saw, amongst the bodies, a small blond curl. Canada's curl. Matthew's curl. _

_**Oh Sh*t!**_

_England scrambled desperately towards the body. _

"_Matthew!" The English man tripped, over a rock, his own feet, a gun, a body. He didn't care. The only thing that mattered at the moment was getting to Matthew._

_But that would have to wait because when the dust from his fall cleared he found himself staring into the face of…of… __**Oh God**__… _

"_Ki…Kiku…?" England sat up quickly, the contents of his stomach emptying out onto the ground. The Japanese man's face was bloody, his eyes closed, but he had various wounds on his body. His face was paled… with death, England assumed. It was like someone had just grabbed ahold of his heart and tugged. Even though…Even though Japan had been against them…he was still…Arthur still…Kiku was…_

_Another one of Arthur's friends… And… Another one of Alfred's friends… The American had many times during this war expressed how much he wished for Japan to decide to ally with them. America had wished that he wouldn't have to hurt him. how he didn't __**want **__his friend getting hurt…and now…that very friend had been an enemy who was disposed of…had Canada and him fought? _

_Were they both… England squeezed his eyes shut, opening and closing his fists to try and control himself. _

"_Why?" _

_He tried to stand, but every time his knees gave out and he fell to the ground again. Each time being forced to see the lifeless face of his old friend… It was so blood stained and pale… England slowly pushed himself away from the two bodies, pulling his knees into himself. He took several deep breaths, his breathing ragged and labored. The Englishman had to fight back the bile that rose in his throat. _

_He needed to stand up…_

_Needed to get the bodies back to the camp so that they could give them a proper burial… _

_Needed to calm down…_

_**Calm down England…**_

_He looked back at the bodies and his eyes finally steadied on Matthew's face. The breaths that had just been calmed yet again began to unration themselves. __**Jesus…**_

"_Calm yourself. __**Calm **__England." He murmured brokenly, turning his face to the sky as to stop the tears from falling again. He had no more time for tears. It was getting dark and he needed to get back to the camp… Storm clouds in the sky threatened bad weather, but he didn't care if the rain drenched him. Even if there was thunder from the approaching storm he wouldn't be able to hear it as his world had gone silent. But he knew that Alfred would still be able to hear it… _

_The thunder would frighten him…_

_Slowly the feeling came back to his body, and he got up and inched himself towards Matthew and Kiku. His shaking, dirt covered hands touched Canada's body gingerly… England shook as he attempted to lift the Canadian off of the ground. But…_

_**Dead weight is very heavy…**_

_Finally he lifted the Canadian's cold body into his arms. Images from the past continuously rose into his mind. Matthew's smiling face, his cute and quiet air, the way that England always seemed to forget that he was there… the tears slid down his face and he didn't try to stop them. _

_He collapsed, bringing the other nation with him. The Canadian tumbled to the ground, rolling through the dirt and landing on his back. _

_A coughing started up. Deep horrible coughing erupted from Matthew as he gasped for air. _

"_Cana…" England scrambled on his hands to get to the side of the young nation. A glimmer of hope shot through the Englishman. Maybe matthew was okay… And maybe…_

_**Maybe he is on the verge of dying…**_

_England didn't want to have to watch Canada die. It would be better if he had died while fighting… __**easier**__…_

"_Mattie?" He was now next to the Canadian, quickly lifting him up. As soon as Canada was sitting up blood poured from his mouth, the scarlet liquid colouring the otherwise blank dirt. It was a horrible sight to behold. Absolutely wretched as the young nation coughed and sputtered, drawing in deep gasps and then finally losing strength and falling back into England's arms. Matthew's face was sweaty and pale. _

_Arthurs vision blurred as he looked away from him. it couldn't be true… _

_**Matthew is dying…Canada is dying… And there is nothing that I can do…**_

_Dulled blue violet eyes fluttered open for a short second before they closed again. "A—" Canada gasped, and began to cough again. "Al?" He murmured brokenly, searching for his brother, his bloody hand coming up. England took hold of his hand and pressed it against his face. _

"_No…" England's voice broke. He swallowed and took a deep breath. "No Matthew… It's England…" The dying nation's eyes fluttered open again and he smiled. _

"_Iggy…" His soft voice tore holes in England soul. _

"_Yeah, I'm here…" _

"_Where…"His eyes slowly began to close again, "Where…" The hand began to slip from Arthurs face and his head fell to the side. Panic coursed through England's body. _

"_Matt— Matthew!" He shook the younger nation lightly. "you need to hold on okay? Just hold on. It'll be okay. You'll be fine…don't give up." England stood quickly, and with a newfound strength he pulled the other man into his arms and stood, beginning to carry him… _

_Though he stumbled a few times, almost falling he knew that he had to keep going…_

_Needed to get Canada back…_

_**Back to Alfred…

* * *

**_

"Arthur! ARTH—"

England found himself awakened by a distressed voice in his ear. It was female…

_Don't tell me I—_

_No…_He relief washed over him as he remembered that the girl was Seychelles. She was in England's country… his home…he was home.

"Shelly…" He tried to blink away his grogginess even though his body was telling him to go back to sleep. Why had she awoken him? "What the bloody hell are you waking me up for?" He grumbled, from what he could see out of the window of the car, they were still driving.

And— He looked at her, noticing that his face felt tight and hot. As if he had just been cry—sh*t… He looked at her wide and worried golden brown eyes. What had he said in his sleep?

Suddenly Seychelles looked away, gazing amost dreamily out the window. She reminded England of a princess who was locked up in a tower. She just seemed…sad…

"The war…" She began, chewing on her lip a little before looking back at him. "It was horrible…wasn't it?"

England froze, not wanting to talk about the war yet. It was still too much of a fresh wound to pour salt onto. "yeah." He answered, trying to imply that he wanted to talk no further on the matter, but her expectant eyes forced a few more words from his lips. "But we won."

She smiled, but that smile soon fell. "Did Canada…" Ah….So she had heard him mutter about that in his sleep.

"No." He smiled sadly. "He's fine now."

"That's good!" Seychelles smiled back at him, turning into a wide grin. "So~" he moved her eyebrows up and down suggestively, having forgotten about her previous mood. "You and Alfred~"

England internally winced.

"No." His voice came out bitter and icy, much more so than he had intended it to. The younger nation looked taken aback, blinking her heavy lashes furiously as if she wasn't comprehending what he had said. Of course it didn't make any sense to her, she didn't want it to make sense, thus it didn't. Alfred was the same way…

_Stop that Arthur! _

…_..The more you think of him, the more you are going get hurt…._

"No, Seychelles…" England sighed. "Nothing happened between America and I."

"Oh…" She pouted. "But…From what you were saying in your dream…Y—"

"Nothing. Happened. Seychelles." He clenched his teeth, and stared out the window. Or at least made it seem like he was doing so. Honestly, he didn't give a damn about his surroundings at the moment, for he had seen them a million times.

"Well. Sor-ry." The brunette huffed.

"Yeah. Yeah…." Suddenly the image of Japan flashed through his mind, and he wa reminded of his prisoner. "Is Japan at the mansion?" He questioned turning back to look at the tanned girl. There was a chilled silence before she spoke.

"Yes."

"Good, is he conscious?"

Silence.

"Yes, he has been for a while now…"

"Good."

England would have to get the information out of him, or at least try to talk to the Asian nation… What was the reason he had sided with china? What had happened when he and Canada were fighting? So many questions that needed answering... What were China's motives behind the attack?

He stared back out the window, and closed his eyes, drawing in deep breaths.

* * *

They pulled into the estate, there was a slight relief to be home. There was only one place better than home… and England would rather not think of him. or his loving embrace and— Damnit! He was doing it again!

The door was opened, and England stepped out of the limo to be greeted by his butler.

"Good day, Sir Kirkland."

"Good day." England muttered. "The prisoner?"

"Yes, he is in the dungeon Sir, would you like to go and see him?"

"Yes."

"Then follow me."

Arthur took a small breath, steeling himself so that he would not feel guilt over what he may end up doing to the smaller nation. He may have to torture an old friend, and the person he was now did not have the strength to do something like that. England delved into his memory of the time when he had been a pirate. As he slipped into his old personality, the chilled and ruthless person that he had thrown away so long ago…

He hardly noticed that he had gone into his house and was now descending the dark and curving stairs. His butler held a flashlight to illuminate the way… it was just not the same. A flash light as opposed to a torch, it just seemed so… boring. But it brought more light, ad he would be able to have candles lit when he reached the bottom anyways. He could deal with the not theatrical lighting for now.

A rattling of chains sounded in the distance, and England let his chilled self take over completely.

"Arthur! Arthur is that you?" The Japanese man's voice was dry and worn sounding, as if he had gone too long without water. The light showed that Japan was chained against the wall, his arms above his head, his legs cuffed together, and a dirty blind fold over his eyes.

He approached the prisoner, taking the key from his butler, and unlocked the shackles on the Asian's wrists. Kiku fell to the floor, rolling into a ball as the breath was knocked out of him. He gasped and shakily sat up.

"Hello Japan," Arthur smirked. "Are you enjoying your stay?" England already knew that the other man's answer would be no. There could be no honest enjoyment in being a prisoner of war.

"This is no way to treat a guest!" He struggles helplessly against the chains at his feet. England stared coolly down at him.

"You are not a guest at this house Japan, you are a prisoner."

"What?"

"You sided with China in the war, you made yourself our enemy."

"What are you talking about? What war?"

It occurred to England for just a second that maybe Japan didn't remember the war…maybe he was like Alfred, maybe he has lost his memories… but the cruel side of him, the pirate side, told him that the prisoner was lying to him. He was just playing stupid.

"China attacked Canada, **why**?" He emphasized his 'why' with a foot jammed into the other man's stomach. See if he could continue to play stupid after enough of this… Japan fell backwards against the wall, smashing himself with a brutal sound onto the hard brick and falling forward.

"I don't know!" Kiku cried.

England approached him, slipping a finger under the blindfold, causing the other nation to draw in a sharp breath. Japan held still as England ripped the cloth from his eyes. The dirties cloth fell neatly to the ground in a pile on the floor.

"Don't lie to me Kiku." He warned, bringing his face close to the others.

"I'm not lying!"

"**Don't." **

England yet again jammed his boot into the man's stomach. Japan closed in on himself and began to cough uncontrollably. When the fit had subsided he looked up with big brown eyes.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Tell me what you know about China's motives!"

"I know _Nothing!_" He drew in a shaky breath as England's temper yet again flared. "Please, stop…" His eyes were so full of confusion, sadness….

It truly was a convincing act. The man was breathing heavily, and looking down at his stomach with a wince.

"Japan…" he crouched down to Kiku's level, and lifting his head up by his slick black hair. The Asian's eyes met his with a pained expression. "Do you remember the fight you had with Canada?" Those eyes widened.

"Canada fought?"

"Yes, he was attacked."

"I…" his lips trembled and he closed his eyes, struggling to bring fourth the memories. It was quiet for a long moment before he looked away. "I'm sorry…I…I don't remember…" his voice was depressed, and it was then that England actually believed that he hadn't been lying. The Asian nation really didn't remember anything either…

"UGH!" England released him and stood.

Japan didn't _**remember**_. This was _**not**_ going to help _**anything**_!

"What. The. _**Hell**_?"

Kiku stared up at him shocked, as the anger just exploded out of the Englishman, and he found himself pacing back and forth across the floor.

"_**You**_ don't remember, _**Alfred**_ doesn't remember. What the f*ck!"

"England…you believe me now…I don't remember…can you please let me out?"

"No." England whirled on him. "No, Japan, you are a prisoner of war. If I let you go it would not look good."

Kiku looked hurt.

"But…We're friends England…"

"That doesn't matter Kiku…"

"But—"

"No." England sighed, going silent for a moment. "…Maybe I will be able to later…Once I convince everyone…But right now…You are a criminal. Memory or not, you still are. Bob—"

His butler was at his side immediately, standing directly behind him in a somewhat creepy way.

"Yes, Sir Arthur?"

England looked at him.

"Make sure that he is better fed. I am serious…have Francis cook for him or something…And keep an eye on him, tell me if he appears to have remembered anything of importance."

"Yes Sir."

And with that England turned and made his way back up the stairs, his emotions swirling over his head.

_Ugh…_

He needed an aspirin…

* * *

**Alrighty~ well there it goes! next chapter is alot of fun~! and we get some pretty exciting things happening with Alfred~ *winks* i wont spoil it though. any body have any predictions? did you like this chapter? poor Japan... i feel so horrible being this mean to him. hmmm~ *muses* What WERE China's motives? the world may never know~ oh! What do you guys think of the flash backs? The more reviews the more i will give you~ ^-^ until next week my friends~**


	11. Heroes Dont Do That

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hetalia!**

**This chapter is oh so very fun~ though it may make some of you mad. Dunno, you will either love half and hate half, or vice versa.**

**I'm so mad at Microsoft word right now. It was what I was writing this on and right before I was about to write the last bit and post the chapter it told me I couldn't touch any of my documents because the beta thing had expired. *huffs* thus this chapter is really late….I'm so sorry guys! **

**Is there anything I can do to make up for it?**

**Well…I hope that you guys like the whole things as much as I do! It's so long….! Which I am kind of really excited about! I'm awaiting you guy's feedback on this! If I get none I will be quite sad~ ;b enjoy the chapter!

* * *

  
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America stumbled, falling back onto his bed. His mind was whirling, which gave him a horrible headache...

Man…

He needed a cheese burger— A big mac with everything on it. Two of em…his head throbbed again. maybe six…Damnit! His head was killing him…

Stupid dreams and their stupidness…

Careful not to fall backwards again Alfred stood and walked to his door only to slam into a wall. He must be really dizzy to have walked towards the door but instead walked into the wall—no wait… that was Russia. America looked up at the tall Russian man with a winning grin.

"Hey big guy~ Wanna go and get some food?"

Ivan stared down at him with a bored expression. "No thank you." He decided. "I do not wish to eat that unsanitary crap you call food." Did he just call America's food unsanitary? And Crap?

Well then… Alfred pursed his lips ad leered up at the Russian, trying to think of a comeback.

"Well…" He paused, a grin spreading over his face. How brilliant was he! "_You're_ unsanitary you vodka drinking commie!"

Ivan raised an eyebrow, amusement sparking in his violet eyes.

"Have you tried vodka Alfred?"

"YES!" America crossed his arms defensively. He had totally tried vodka before And…

He definitely did NOT find himself woken up in a strange bed with no memory of what had happened the night before. Nope. That had _never_ happened to him. Like a good American he was able to hold his beer!

"I bet you cannot handle it." Russia smirked, the tone of his voice just daring Alfred to prove him wrong.

"Oh yes I can. I probably can hold my beer better than you!" Well that was a lie. Russia drank vodka like…All the time… But America HAD to be better than him! The Russians lips twitched and he took a step forward, bumping Alfred back a little ways.

"Then let us go to a bar."

A bar… A face popped into his mind, making the American feel somewhat sad…

"I don't want to…" He mumbled. Something inside of America just did not want to go drinking with Russia. It wasn't because he knew that he would not be able to out-drink the commie bastard. Well, not ALL of it… But it felt like it would be wrong….As if he just shouldn't be going out drinking with anyone but—

…

But who?

…

_Iggy_

…

Yes, England was his drinking buddy… America couldn't imagine hanging out at a bar with anyone but the English nation. It was fun seeing him get drunk after two beers. Light ones too. They would sit and talk for hours and then England would pass out and Alfred would have to carry him out to the car, and bring him to his house to sleep. The other man's hangovers were never all that bad either. Alfred found himself smiling. Yes, he would get a headache and whine and when Alfred-being the hero that he was- would offer him some aspirin, which the other man would refuse and—

"Alfred?" Russia broke him out of his thoughts. America's heart fluttered a bit and the smile fell from his face. It was stupid that he had been smiling at those memories…ugh…

"Yes?"

"Was that a no?"

"I think I just said yes."_ Duh_

"I meant before." Russia stated. "You do not wish to go drinking, Da?"

"Da." Alfred smirked. _Oops_. "I mean, yeah." The stupid commie was rubbing off on him…

"And I do not wish to go to McDonalds with you."

America pouted.

"I never said we had to go to McDonalds!" He paused, thinking about how he was going to be able to go get his food. Sure…he could go alone…but eating alone was boring… "We can…" It hit him, making his face light up. "We can go to Red Robin!"

Russia paused, looking thoughtful. Did he not know what red robin was? Pfft, that wasn't possible! Everyone knew what it was! The American crossed his arms and grinned at the Russian.

"The…yummm~ place?" The bigger man questioned, humming the tune in place of the restaurant's name. Alfred couldn't stop the smile that was slipping over his face. The yummm place? He held back his laughter. It wasn't because he wanted to mock what Russia had said, it was just…so cute! He guessed that even Ivan could have his cute moments.

Said man cocked his head to the side slightly and blinked.

"What is so funny?" He questioned, his violet eyes darkening in a slightly dangerous manner. Alfred just smiled at him.

"You."

"Me?" Ivan's face darkened and he took a step towards the American.

"Yes." America laughed a little and shook his head. "There is a lot that you don't know."

"Such as?" Russia's eyebrows raised.

"Yummm~" America sung out with a chuckle, which received a confused look from the Russian.

"That is the place. Am I wrong?"

"No-I mean yeah. That's the place. The yummm place." He mused. It was decided, that was the restaurant's new name. Well…in his mind, even if no one would be able to understand what he was talking about… He supposed Russia would so, it could be their little inside joke.

Russia's violet eyes went dark again as the menacing aura that had caused so many to just die on spot came over him. America simply smiled at the other man. Slowly Russia took another step towards him.

"Red Robin." He stated the real name of the restaurant with narrowed eyes.

"Yes~ yummm~"

"I do not think that you are very funny Alfred." Did he think that he was making fun of him? No- Alfred simply found it cute… He guessed he was too prone to sound like he was making fun of someone, even when he wasn't…

"No, its cute though."

"Cute?" Russia backed away.

"Well…" America felt the hot blush spreading on his face. "For a commie bastard."

"Alfred, I have not been a communist for—"

"Yeah, Yeah, come on big guy, let's go~!"

Russia glared at him again and put a hand on the American nations shoulder to stop him from turning and leaving the room.

"No."

No? Damn….America looked up at Ivan with shimmering blue eyes and a puppy dog pout. This was sure to change his mind. It ALWAYS changed his mind….No, that was England…But if it worked on that stubborn old man then…It should work on anyone. Alfred was certain that it would crack the other man's defenses. He wanted his burger!

"Pleeeaaasssseeeee?" He begged, wrapping his arms around the Russians neck and staring widely up at him. The only effect that it had was the darkening of the others eyes once again as violet met blue.

"No Alfred, that does not work on me."

Well then… The American would just have to draw upon more of his acting skills.

"Oh…" he murmured, letting himself get a little heavier as his eyes went slightly downcast and tears well up in them. Hesitantly he looked back up at Russia and bit his lip. "Why can't we go…?"

"I already told you, and besides," Russia removed the others hands from around his neck. "I do not care how cute you look right now, I am not hungry."

"But…Ivan..." He hadn't been out of the house in _forever_! it was as if the Russian had some reason for keeping him inside… How could he convince him to—That was it!

"Red Robin has vodka."

This caused the other man to raise an eyebrow.

"Really, Does it?"

"Yup!" he actually wasn't entirely sure.

"And you are not just saying this?" _Nooooooooooooooooo_….. Alfred smiled.

"Nope! I know that they have a bar there!"

"But does this bar have vodka?"

"Well—" He could just lie and say that he was certain that it did, but he didn't want to lie to Russia… it could end dangerously… "We shall find that out when we get there~"

"I am not hungry." Ivan repeated aggravated. Selfish commie bastard… Why wouldn't he just go? America took his plead a step further and stood on his tips toes, wrapping his arms back around Russia's neck. He kissed him lightly on the lips and drew back as the other man let his lips part.

"Entertain me?" He batted his lashes and played coy. Russia looked away a small hint of pink on his cheeks. So it was working~ Alfred fought back the smirk that tried to work its way onto his face.

"If you insist."

"YAY!" Alfred unwrapped himself from Russia and turned around to go grab his car keys off of the dresser. Finally he would be able to drive his baby for the first time in _forever_. His red mustang with a mural of the American flag painted beautifully on the sides, a flying bald eagle on the hood. This was all done as a friendship present from Italy.

_I need a hero~ _

_I'm holding out for a hero till the end of the night~_

_And he's gotta—_

"Hero~?" Alfred picked up his phone cheerfully.

"Hey Al! How've you been?"

"Mattie! I've been great! How about you?" It was good to be talking to his twin again!

"Bored…" The Canadian laughed.

"Well then! You should come with me and Russia to the yummm~ place!" He received an icy glare from the Russian across the room and silence from Mattie.

"What?"

"Oops, sorry, Red Robin."

"OH!" There was a cute chuckle from the other line. "Yummm~"

"So, do you want to come?"

"Definitely, can you pick me up at the hotel?"

"Yeah! Be there in a bit!"

"Okay!" Alfred closed his phone and snatched his keys off of the dresser. As his hands met the cold metal his head spun—

* * *

_England was back! That meant that he had found Canada! And apparently he had found Japan as well! Russia had gone out to get him, following the coordinates that he was given by England. _

_As America burst into the tent where they were supposed to be keeping Canada he called out his brother's name. "Mattie!" He froze on spot, and looked down at his brother's bloodied face. Wounds that still dripped with the crimson liquid. Even though he had been bandaged… "Mattie…"He whispered brokenly. He couldn't believe it. It wasn't possible for his sunny and quiet brother to be lying here like this. It was all his fault…_

"_Alfred…" It took a moment for the British man's voice to register in his mind. He had made his way towards Alfred, but the American just couldn't tear his eyes from the sight before him. It was just too horrible to imagine…let alone be real…__**this can't be real**__… bile rose in his throat and he shoved it back along with the everwelling tears. _

"_Alfred…" England said again, wrapping his arm around him, and blocking his eyes with his soft hand… Alfred found himself beginning to relax in the embrace, but quickly pulled away. _

_His blue eyes shot accusingly to the Englishman searching his face for some kind of answer. Was his brother dead? He hadn't checked to see if he was breathing. He was about to turn back to the bloody form, but was stopped. _

_**Why can't I see him?**_

"_Iggy, what—"His broken voice was alien to his ears as it was coated by the tears that now spilt over. Like the waterfall that had connected him and his beloved brother. He didn't want to be comforted by the other man! He wanted his brother! Wanted Mattie! It wasn't fair!_

"_He…" England stopped as America searched his eyes, trying to find some kind of hope in those emerald fields. He didn't want to hear that his brother was dead…no! If he could have just blocked his ears and sang some loud and obnoxious song to block out the unwanted truth he would have, but his arms didn't want to work… he could only stand there, hopeless, frozen, tears burning his cheeks. _

_The other man's eyes softened, and he pulled him once again into an embrace. Alfred let himself go. A sob escaped his lips, and his knees gave out. Soon, he was sobbing so hard it was making his head hurt. Damn…He hadn't felt himself this heart , in a very long time…_

"_Shhhh— Alfred, it's okay, it's okay." Arthur rocked him in his arms even though he was bigger than the Englishman. His soft fingers traced patterns in America's hair. It was soothing to be in his arms, being held and comforted that way. America clutched the older nation's shirt with a shaky breath. "It's alright love, everything is going to be okay." He cooed. "Matthew is alright_

"_He…He is…?" He swallowed and pulled away reluctantly eyes wide and stinging. _

_Arthur smiled warmly at him and pushed the wet strands of hair out of Alfred's face. _

"_Yes love, when Russia returns, we will know more about his condition," He stopped, resting his hand on the side of Alfred's face. "We shall know whether he will stay alive… Or not._

_**Or…Not…**_

_They both glanced over at the blood covered Canadian and Alfred felt the tears spill over again as England spoke. _

"_I… Wouldn't get your hopes up…" _

_It was a horrible. HORRIBLE thing to hear…That your brother probably wasn't going to live! That he wasn't going to exist anymore. He wouldn't be right there, a border away… Absolutely horrible! Alfred had already guessed that the chances of his brother living were slim….but to be __**told**__…Well, it just sent the arrow even deeper through his heart. _

_America swallowed and leaned into the hand that still rested on his cheek. _

"_I know Iggy…I know…" _

_He sobbed. He could feel the other nation shaking with silent tears as well. England didn't show it as much, but he cared deeply for the Canadian as well… He just…wasn't good with emotions. _

_**Mattie…**_

_Alfred felt broken. He was supposed to be the hero! But where was he when his brother needed him, when he had called him for help through Alfred's ear piece? Where had America been? Not with Matthew, that's where. And that was all that mattered, he wasn't supposed to be the one who saved people, and here he was. Useless. Just sitting here crying into England's arms as he watched his brother die. _

_Stupid. Useless hero…_

_China had done it, he had found America's weak point and tore him apart. But—He couldn't give up! America had to keep going! They needed to win this war. For Canada's sake, for the sake of __**everyone**__ who had died in this war, or were even now sacrificing themselves to defend their country. The killing needed to end, and someone needed to win. And if someone was going to win it would be the good guys! Not the ones who went around attacking people's brothers to get the other one to fight. _

_But….Clinging to Arthur the way that he was right now, he didn't feel like the big nation that he had come to be. He didn't feel like he had to be the hero, didn't have to have a role. He was simply Alfred, a little kid. The child before the revolutionary war who sat with his caretaker and would cry at the sound of thunder, who would sleep in the other mans bed because he had been scared by the shadows of monsters created by the trees. _

_But this time Arthur wasn't his caretaker, he was much more than that…

* * *

_

Alfred awoke in a cold sweat for what seemed like the millionth time. Russia was above him, calling out his name. America blinked and slowly sat up...His head was once again throbbing…ugh…

"Ivan…" he mumbled, grasping the other's shoulder to steady himself. "How long was i…"

"Not long America…Are you Alright?" He paused and looked down at him again, then at the keys lying a little bit always that Alfred must have dropped. "Perhaps I should be the one to drive…" He murmured reaching for the keys. Alfred's hand shot out and he grabbed them.

"Naw, I'm fine. And besides, my baby is not going to be driven by some commie bastard."

This brought Russia's lovely smile back, not the creeper one that he displayed so often, but the sweet and loving one. The bigger nation even let out a small laugh as he shook his head, and helped Alfred up.

"Then you had best get up, capitalist pig." Alfred chuckled and was once again on his feet.

"Come on~" Alfred slid his hand into the Russian's. a strange feeling passed over him, as if something was out of place…The hand seemed too big… Bigger than England's…

Wait—

Had he even _held_ England's hand before? Well, when he was a child, but that wouldn't explain the feeling of the hand being too big in his his…ugh…America shook his head, and tried to forget the weird feeling.

What he was doing was perfectly normal.

* * *

Canada got into the car and they made their way to Red Robin. It slightly aggravated Russia that every time America referred to the restaurant he would call it the yummm place. It was if he was mocking him. But was most likely that America was not mocking him, he just liked it.

They made another sharp turn, causing Russia to slam into the side of the car.

Alfred drove me a maniac, one hand on the steering wheel, the top down cause his golden hair to fly around his head, whipping him in the face as he turned his head back a little bit to talk to Canada.

Ivan wanted to tell him to watch the road, but from his experience with the American it was best just to let him do what he wanted.

They pulled into the restaurant and Alfred put the hood of his card back up as they got out of it. He clicked his keys and the car beeped twice. Alfred gave a satisfied smirk, and they turned, finally walking towards the entrance.

Russia liked seeing Alfred smile, but he didn't like to be beaten. He would have to make up for it with drinks. America had said that there was a bar. Unless it had been a lie to get him to come here, but as they entered, Russia could see the red neon lit bar. Good, very good.

Ivan grinned and began to pull Alfred towards it.

"No." the blond pouted. "We are here to eat."

Suddenly, as if called a waitress appeared, a cheerful smile plastered on her face.

"Table for two?" She questioned.

"Ye—" Alfred paused. "No, we have three…" She looked around, seeming to look right past Canada. A blank look crossed over her face.

"Will they be arriving soon?"

"They're right here…" Scanned them over again, still looking confused. Really, Russia couldn't see how everyone seemed to just skip past the quiet Canadian. Maybe it was because he was so quiet, but…He was standing there, and Russia was certain that she had looked right at him before… The younger nation most certainly was not invisible, it just didn't make any sense…

"I…I'm right here…!" Canada spoke up, moving closer to the woman.

Her eyes seemed to come into focus, and she blushed, becoming quite embarrassed.

"OH! I am so sorry! I didn't see you there…"

"It's okay." Matthew smiled warmly at her. How easily he was able to forgive people… "I've been told that I blend into the background well so…" He laughed and gave a small shrug of his shoulders.

"Yeah…" she blinked again, and then the smile slipped back into place as she had them follow her to the table where they would be seated. As they sat down, she asked them if they knew what they wanted to drink. Well obviously Russia knew what he wanted.

"Vodka." He stated dryly.

"Maple syrup."

"A cheese burger."

The woman moved her pen away from the paper and gave the three of them a blank stare? Really, was this woman stupid? They had clearly stated what they wanted, why must she continue to question it. Especially with that idiotic expression.

"Oh…" A smile lit her face as if she had figured out what was meant by the statement. "You know what you want to _eat_." She was looking at Alfred when she said that. Well Russia supposed that yes; he had stated that he wanted cheeseburger for a drink. She should have just blended it up and handed it to him, he would have enjoyed it. Probably would have made it his new special meal at his beloved McDonalds. Russia mentally shuddered. Disgusting.

"Yeah." America smiled. "I'll have all of these!" America gave her a childish grin, and handed her the menu.

"You want…" she hesitated.

"Yes, he knows how big the burgers are, and he wants all of them." Russia answered, annoyed.

"All of the burgers." America corrected.

"You know…They are awfully big…" She mumbled, disregarding what Ivan had stated. Russia sighed and moved his thoughts to how much America could eat, and that continued into musing about how much he could fit in his mouth…

"Okay…" She scribbled it down, and looked at Russia.

"And you want…?"

"Vodka. That is all."

"Vodka….I don't think that we carry that…"

Russia glared at America who bit his lip.

"Are you sure?" He asked hopefully, his big blue eyes pleading with her.

"I…" She tried to cover up the blush that was spreading on her cheeks. "I can check…"

"Thank you." He smiled charmingly, and she quickly glanced over to Matthew.

"you're welcome, ummm…. Maple syrup?"

"Yes." Canada gave her a sweet little smile, and handed his menu to her. "And, I'll probably just have one of his cheese burgers." He chuckled.

"No! Those are going to be MY cheese burgers."

Canada turned to him with wide, pleading, indigo eyes.

"Please…?" It must be some kind of trait that they both had, to be able to make such a cute face that would tear down anyone's defenses… Alfred glanced downwards, and muttered something. "Hmmm?" Canada smiled, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Fine…" Alfred muttered.

"Thanks bro!"

"Okay…" The waitress started, picking up Russia's menu. "I'll be right back with your drink— wait…. You never ordered a drink…" She looked at America with a devious smile.

"Oh….uh…I'll just have some coke." He chuckled.

"Alright, well then, I shall be right back."

"Okay! Thanks!" Alfred grinned, and when she left, Canada began to fidget nervously in his seat. Did he have something that he wanted to say? Maybe he had to go to the bathroom…

"Da? Canada?" Russia asked, looking expectantly at the Canadian. The other man's eyes widened slightly, and a small blush crept over his face.

"I…" He swallowed. "So…Ummm..." Could he not talk? Matthew bit his lip, his indigo eyes turning to Alfred. "Are you remembering anything?"

Russia felt a flood of anger rush over him. Why was Canada trying to interfere in his relationship with Alfred? This should not happening.

America looked as I he was trying to hold something back. _Had _he remembered something? Wait…. What if he did remember…. Russia carefully inspected the American's face, searching for a sign of him seeming to have remembered something about England… And his relationship with him… But…

He had been fine in the morning. He had kissed Ivan and had been acting alright. But… There was those times with his dreams and this morning when he had passed out.

"Yeah…"

What—He had?

They both stared at him expectantly, causing America to look down and fiddle with his drink mat. "I—" Suddenly a coke was placed down in front of him.

"Here are your drinks." The bubbly waitress said. Could she have any worse timing? Russia sighed as he took his drink from her.

"Oh…Yeah, thanks!" Alfred quickly brought it to his lips and began to drink. He was avoiding telling them, and— couldn't this infuriating woman go away? She looked over at Canada apologetically.

"I'm sorry sir, my Manager wouldn't allow me to give you pure maple syrup as a beverage, so…I mixed it into a smoothie with vanilla ice cream…Is that alright?"

"Yes." He took the drink. "Thank you."

"I will be back with your food as soon as possible." The girl—tracy, her name tag said, turned and walked off.

Russia turned on Alfred. He wanted an answer, and when he wanted an answer, he got it, one way…or another.

"continue what you were saying." Russia pressed. America took another sip of his drink, swallowing slowly.

"Ahhh~ this is some damn good coke, ya know I think they have some kind of secret recipe—"

"Alfred, it is a fountain drink. Nothing more, now continue."

"No I think—"

"Alllllllll~" Canada groaned.

"What?" The blond asked innocently, while sipping at his drink.

" You are not getting to the point." Ivan stated, taking a long sip of his vodka. Oh, how good the liquid felt as it slipped down his throat….

"What point?" Alfred played the stupid and innocent character well, but not well enough.

"Your memories."

"Oh…." He laughed nervously, and looked away again, acting as if there was something wrong… "Only a few things really, they don't make any sense so…" He chuckled. "It's not important."

"Al…It IS important." Canada murmured.

"Well….I dreampt…about the time when they brought you back. It was horrible Mattie, really horrible, you…you fought with Japan…?" Canada flinched, but nodded meekly. "Yeah, and you were…Just…Horrible…" The American's eyes looked old and distant for a moment. "And we were all crying, except Ivan…" He looked at Russia. "You went out to get Japan…" The Russian nodded.

_Yes….Does this mean that he remembers something that happened with him and England…?_

"And Iggy and I were crying…I mean…yeah…That's all…"

Russia felt his shoulders relax a little bit, sensing that Alfred was being honest. But there was still some part of the story that was missing…what could it be…?

"A—"

"OHMYGOD! AMERICA!"

All three of their head shot up at the fangirlish squeal, and they were met with blazing baby blues. Russia froze looking at the boy?...No, girl…? Approaching them. Judging from the really high pitched yell of the American nation's name Ivan guessed that it was more likely it was a girl. Should she know about this?

She didn't look like one of them, actually she did. She looked almost exactly like America….Except for her smile. She was grinning hugely as she approached their table. Alfred flinched back as she got right up in his face.

"Sorry, wow…You are like, the BEST America cosplayer that I have ever seen! And trust me, I have seen a ton! Where did you get your jacket? It looks really…Real!" Her voice was making Russia's ears bleed. How dare she take on his beloved's looks!

"Ummm…" America laughed nervously, looking to Russia and his brother for some help. "Yeah…" He looked utterly confused as she pulled up a chair from the nearest table and decided to sit with them. As if she was noticing them for the first time, she gaped at Matthew and Ivan.

"Oh. My. God. You guys look like Russia and Canada! Are you guys all cosplaying as a group?"

Russia had to resist the urge to rip her annoying little throat out. Even if she _looked_ like his beloved America she could NOT pull off his obnoxiousness as well as him. That meaning—_She_ couldn't get away with it.

At least not with Ivan.

* * *

Finally the waitress reappeared with their food. Finally, something to end this intolerable woman's babbling. She looked confused before she placed the plates down and went on her way without a word. At least _that_ was good.

Soon they were all chattering and done with the enormously huge pile of food in record time. Russia decided that it was finally time to order drinks.

"Am—Alfred." Russia smiled warmly at the blond, whose head shot up at the sound of his name. The younger nation was grinning widely, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to play a game?" The Russian questioned. He could practically see the other man's tail wagging with anticipation at the mention of a game.

"A game?" He repeated excitedly.

"Da, a drinking game Alfred."

"…" America pursed his lips. "Sure." He decided at last.

"Then I shall now order."

"Fine."

"can I play?"

Russia looked up annoyed, thinking that it was the girl, but it was actually Canada who had spoken. The quiet, careful Canada, wishing to play a drinking game? It wan not really expected of the Canadian, did he truly want to play? Well…He had said that he did.

"Da, Tracy—" Russia's hand shot out as he pulled the waitress aside.

"Ye-yes?"

"More vodka, lots of it." He took out a wad of money, and placed it on the table. Her eyes widened as she looked at it disbelievingly. It was probably more than what it cost. Taking the money, she went off to get the drinks.

When his eyes came down, they were met with an icy blue glare. Russia's heart skipped a beat, why was Alfred looking at him that way?

"How did you know her name?" he questioned. Ivan couldn't help the smile from appearing on his face. His lips perked up on one side more than the other.

"Jealous?" He questioned. The Russian could tell by the faint blush coming across the other's face that he was right. As always. Any answer other than a "yes" would be a lie.

"No." America growled, crossing his arms. "It's probably just one of your communist powers."

Russia found himself rolling his eyes. Really Alfred? How childish. Though, he never _did _tire of these childish games America liked to play. He put his hands up in surrender, and smiled.

"You have caught me."

"HA! HAHAHA! I KNEW it! The hero is always right!"

Ivan put his arms down with a chuckle.

"I read her name tag." He paused for a moment. "Unless you consider reading a special communist skill—"

"I—pfft…NO!"

"I did not think so."

"Shut up!" He growled.

Russia leaned forward.

"Do you wish to make me?"

"I—" America stopped, his mood suddenly becoming more downcast. Why did that make him react that way? "No… I don't think that I will."

"That is fine…" Russia smiled, and placed his hand to his scarf, fingering the soft material with a thoughtful air.

"Are you guys a Russia and America supporting couple?" The annoying girl asked at last. "because that pairing is great and all, but I think that England and America are a much better—"

"Nobody cares what you think, shut up." Russia snapped at her. The girl flinched back.

"Well then…"

It wasn't long before they were all drinking. It was time to begin the game. Russia scanned the people who sat at the table with a smirk. At the moment, Alfred was being willed to chug his glass of vodka, and Canada was already flushed, and half drunk. The girl was tipping her drink into her mouth with a grin that caused half of the drink to spill down her clothes.

"America~" Ivan smiled broadly as the other man slammed down the cup, wiped his mouth, and looked at the Russian with a half smile.

"Yeah?"

"Amer…ica?" The girl mumbled, looking at them, and wiping her mouth on her sleeve as well.

_Sh*t…_

"It's a nick name darlin~ showing how…" Canada thought for a moment as he wrapped his arm around her waist. "_Dedicated_ to our cosplays we are."

"OH! That is so AWESOME! Really fantastic dedication there! I KNEW you guys were cosplayers! How good am I~?" She giggled drunkenly, then gasped, which caused her to start coughing. Could she be choking on her own stupidity? Russia mused darkly as she grabbed how hold of Matthew for support with another giggle. It took her a second and another sip of her drink to continue talking.

"Do you have an England?" She asked. "You know, I once f*cked a guy who would make a PERFECT England cosplayers! He was like you guys, as if he just jumped out of the anime!" She giggled. "It wasn't too long ago actually! Maybe last week? Yeah…" Russia watched America seeing a reaction already in the other man's stiffened silence. "His name was Arthur!" Her eyes widened and she clapped her hands in delight. Alfred was now clutching his drink in his hand with a somewhat contained anger. Why would he be angry? His eyes widened and glazed over slightly as he began to stare off into space.

_No!_

"OH! Your name is Alfred right? That is so convenient! Hahaha, because he was totally in LOVE, I mean _LOVE_ with a guy named Alfred. Said he didn't remember—Hey…are you alright?" She stopped, seeing that Alfred was breathing heavily.

_No….It's too late now…It's over…_

Russia could tell that it was all over for him and Alfred. She had ruined it. But…He couldn't kill her in a public place like this…no…He couldn't kill her period, she didn't know what she was doing. She was just an idiot.

Alfred had turned very pale, the glass in his hand shattering in sparking shards as it cascaded to the floor. The American closed his now blood covered fist, and drew in a shaky breath.

"I'm going outside." He stated dryly, pushing his chair out, getting up and walking briskly to through the tables and to the door. Russia just watched him go, knowing that he was lost him. He glared at the girl.

"What?" She asked, looking absolutely confused. "What did I say?"

_The truth…._

Russia sighed, and turned back in time to see Alfred exit out the door and stop his shoulders shaking. And suddenly he fell down.

"ALFRED!"

* * *

_Heroes don't hyperventilate…So BREATHE Alfred… BREATHE! _

America stumbled out of the door, no…It was not due to his slight drunkenness, it was because his mind was spinning.

That woman had slept with England. HIS f*cking England! Ugh!

Wait…

Was he jealous?

She had said…said that England had loved him.

_Arthur loves me….My Iggy…_

For some reason that made him smile. His lips trembled and the tears spilt down his cheeks.

Everything seemed so wrong…So wrong…

"Iggy…" He looked up and suddenly it all hit him.

Alfred's legs gave out and he tumbled to the ground, his head smashing against the hard concrete…

And just like that….

Everything went black…

* * *

**_SO~ Are you horribly mad at me? what do you think? Is Alfred going to be okay? hahaha you guys should show that you love me, and leave me lots and lots of reviews so that i can give you a new chapter sooner~ _**

**_how about this? i will give the 50th reviewer a free request fanfiction! _**

**_i really wish to know what you guys think. are you mad about Meagan appearing again? I promise that that was the last of her. truely. she was needed for that moment was all. that was her sole purpose. i couldn't have another Hetalia character in her place. sorry! ^-^;_**

**_I love you guys! please review~!  
_**


	12. A Promise

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hetalia….the world would be in trouble if I did~ *winks***_

_**Yay! My birthday this past week~! I've been quite busy…essays, party planning, more homework. Damn Sarel…so sorry that this chapter is late… ^-^' love ya~!**_

_**Hahaha! I actually had quite a bit of trouble with this chapter. Writers block! So here ya go~**_

* * *

England looked as if he had fallen into a pleasant slumber. His blond hair messily surrounding his head like a halo, his features endearing in the clear morning light… It was good that he was finally getting some pleasant sleep, as opposed to the tossing and turning and screaming he had been doing every night since he got back and probably before then as well.

Memories from the war…

That horrible bloody war…

But it would be okay now that it was over. America would regain his memories. If he loved England once, then he would definitely love him again!

Taking one look at the busy browed angel Seychelles smiled, and exited the room.

It seemed odd to her, still, that America would just forget that way… It didn't seem like him…could countries even have memory loss? Well…Since America seemed to, it must be possible…But why that specific time? It really bothered her—

"Seychelles~" She looked up suddenly to see a distressed Frenchman running towards her. France ran with a phone being swung around in his left hand, his arms flailing and running like a slow motion movie. France could be so odd sometimes…She smiled, and waved at him as he rushed nearly into her. He seemed to be frantic about something. What was wrong? She looked up at him with wide almond eye.

"Wha—" Before she could even finish the question France was pushing the phone into her hands.

"Mon cheri! Wake Arthur up! Tell him that the phone call is urgent!"

She paused, trying to take in the jumbled words.

"Francis! Why can't you—" Seychelles began, confused.

"He is far too scary in the morning for me to risk getting this beautiful face scarred. Please?"

"Who is it from?"

"It's America!"

"America!" She asked, excitedly. The Frenchman nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes! A hospital in America!"

Seychelles froze, her happiness falling around her. Had something bad happened to America?

"What happened?" She questioned, looking down at the phone that she _hoped_ was on hold.

"Just bring the phone to Arthur…"

"Right!" She turned on her heel, and headed back into the room she had just come out of. "ENGLAND!" She cried as she burst in, and began to tug at his covers.

"Bloody hell…" he growled. "Go _away_ Seychelles!"

She flinched back, and was pushed aside with a sigh from France.

"Arthur." The man's voice was even, and clear as he stood over the cranky Brit.

"I'm bloody asleep! Wankers!" He growled.

France rolled his eyes, and proceeded to sit on top of England.

"OW! Get OFF! You stupid idiotic plebeian!" A pillow came up and connected with France's head, causing his hair to sway a little, before falling perfectly back into place. The Frenchman simply smiled at the abuse. What a masochist… Seychelles found herself holding back laughter.

"England…Je suis desolee, mais…you _must_ get up."

"Why? I don't want to!"

"Sometimes we all don't want to do the things we need to do," France spat.

"That makes no bloody sense. I don't have to get up! There'd be no point to it! Francis you're an idiot! Get off of me this instant!" He squirmed under the other mans weight.

"You have a phone call." France stated, taking the cell phone from Seychelles.

"Well, tell them to call back later!"

"Can't."

"Why the hell not?"

"because it's important."

"I need to sleep Francis _that's_ important."

"Alfred is in th—"

"ALFRED?" England sat up quickly, fully awake now, and strong enough to cause the Frenchman to crash to the floor. He held out his hand to take the phone which had fallen with the Frenchman. He looked down at him incredulously his face painted with a pout.

"What are you doing on the floor you imbecile! Give me the bloody phone!"

France looked at Seychelles and rolled his eyes with a smirk, raising his hand so that England could take the phone from him.

The Englishman snatched the phone up and placed it against his ear. His whole personality seemed to change as he spoke into the device.

"Hello?" She said pleasantly, coating his voice with honey. There was a long pause. "Yes, this is Arthur…yes, I apologize for all of that ruckus. …he's what?...no, it's alright… I see…I will be there as soon as I can…yes…tell them that I will…alright, thank you…yes…Good day…"

He pressed down on the end button of the touch screen, and let it fall from his hands. England's body was trembling as he stared down at his sheets, looking past all of the material and into nothing… Seychelles could see that he was fighting back tears. But the old man was just too stubborn to express his feelings. That was probably why he was so angry all of the time.

"Arthur…What is wrong…?" Francis asked, resting his hand-in a non creeper way like usually, but in an actually act of comforting way- on England's leg. The Englishman's emerald eyes glowed with ill fought tears.

"He's in the ICU."

France drew in a sharp breath. Again….Again America was in the ICU… the intensive care unit…

"Well…He is a nation Arthur…" France said comfortingly. "I'm sure that he'll be fine… As long as his capital is still intact...he'll be fine okay?"

"But…he still doesn't have a president...elections are being held, but… what if they have more spies, and they are attacking again? A part of the enemy that we didn't know about?"

"I do not think so Arthur." France smiled.

"What if he isn't alright?"

"England, listen to yourself, he's a country, a very strong one at that. He can handle whatever happens to him. Or…do you doubt that he is a hero?" The Frenchman's blue eyes sparkled.

"I…" England looked away briefly, and then glanced back at him. "Apparently, he had been drunk…and he'd fallen…"

"Some fall…"

"Francis! America doesn't _get_ drunk easily! And he definitely wouldn't pass out like that if he did!" England cried. "If he is in the ICU that means that he is not okay! NOT okay!"

"Shut up and just go and see for yourself!" France growled, getting to his feet.

"Fine!"

"Good!"

"I will!"

"then go!"

England pulled himself out of bed, and grabbed the suitcase he had never unpacked, walking out the door before he froze and turned around. Seychelles cracked a small smile, he must have realized that he was only wearing his boxers. France smiled as he watched the Englishman walk to his dresser and pull out clothes, putting them on with shaky fingers. He was worried about America…

Seychelles worried as well, she was scared that something has gone terribly wrong with the American. What if he forgot _everything_ this time? Why had he passed out?

"England?"

He latched his suitcase after throwing in a few more articles of clothing, and pulled it up, briskly walking past her.

"Is there—" He began again, stepping backwards into the room, and looking at France.

"Yes."

He sighed, relieved, and let one of his breath taking smiles come over his face.

"Thank you Francis…Thank you a lot…"

"For what?" France asked, his smile growing even wider. He knew what for, but it seemed to be playing a game. England shook his head.

"Are they—"

"Under your name Arthur."

Plane tickets. France had already reserved him plane tickets. England turned back around and began to walk again before he spun back around.

"Wait—" He began with a glare. "Why did you ask me what had happened if you know…"

"It was the hospital Arthur, you would have gone even if your little Alfred had gotten a small cut." France smiled knowingly at the Englishman. England's face grew red and he turned around with muttered thanks and dashed down the hall, and down the stairs.

An arm reached out, wrapping around Seychelles's waist, and she was pulled in by Francis. The older man let out a sigh, and rested his face in her hair. She wrapped her arms around him, and let him stay there.

"That man…"

Seychelles smiled and ran a finer through soft blond hair.

"I know Francis" she said, her heart aching a bit. "I know…"

* * *

Arthur had gotten off of the plane, and ran for a taxi. He needed to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Get to his Alfred… To see if he is okay…

When he had finally got into the vehicle, and was driving for a bit, the buildings began to get lost in the speed of the car. England found himself beginning to fall asleep.

It was a long drive to the hospital, but he was haunted by the past whenever he closed his eyes. He had to keep telling himself that Alfred would be fine. But his mind kept slipping back to the negative. What had caused Alfred to faint like that? He seemed perfectly fine before…

What if he had snapped and just lost his memories completely? Everything…Just…Gone…?

He would talk to Russia when he got to the hospital….

Yes…

England yawned. Despite his worried state of mind, he found himself being pulled in by the misty arms of sleep.

* * *

_Arthur stood with Alfred in the Conference room of the fort. They were the only two left after a particularly depressing meeting…Joyful because they had finally won the war, but there were so many people dead…so many… They had captured the enemy nations, finished the horrible war, but that didn't change the fact that…_

_That they had lost nearly 3/5__ths __of their soldiers. A devastating amount of lives lost… horribly devastating… But they had saved so many innocent people in return… _

_Though it had been a horrible experience England couldn't help but feel joy pulsing through him at the thought of their victory. And here was Alfred, bloody, dirty, wounded, and yet his handsome smile giving him an angelic glow._

_The American turned to Arthur, his smile growing even wider as he wrapped his arms around Arthur and pulled him in, nuzzling his head in head against his neck. England let himself give into the soft touches as America's fingers trailed down his arms and danced under the Englishman's shirt. Alfred's soft lips pressed against his, gentle at first, but then turning urgent as his tongue demanded entrance to Arthur's mouth… England willingly let him in, wrapping his arms around Alfred's neck and kissing him back. _

"_Mmmmnn…" He breathed shallowly as America pulled away from him with a grin, lifting him up onto the table with that abnormal strength of his-even for a country- and continued to kiss him. He pulled away, leaving England breathless and leaned his forehead on the Englishman's. _

"_We did it Iggy." Alfred grinned. Really, the American didn't understand what he was doing to Arthur…getting him all…worked up, and then saying the same thing that they had all been saying for the past few hours… England internally groaned. _

"_I know Alfred." He mumbled, pulling his boyfriend closer to him. _

"_I just…can't believe it." Alfred breathed his grin still radiant…Dazzling…His dimpled cheeks making him look both extremely handsome and childish at the same time. _

"_Well," England brought his hands down America's shoulders, making the other man shiver. "You __**are**__ a hero." He smiled, lacing his fingers though Alfred's. The American didn't seem to see that England was not in the mood for talking anymore. _

"_Damn right!"_

"_Now," England licked his lips, and leaned closer to America. "Be my hero and—"_

_There was a loud crashing sound outside of the tent; it sounded like…guns… but why? The war was over, maybe it was a misfire. But still, at that moment it seemed more menacing than any thunder that England had ever heard. _

_Smoke traveled into the tent as the door was pushed aside. America was already out of England's grip, looking alert as a soldier frantically rushed into the room. _

"_Escaped!" England heard through the loud gunshots and yelling outside. _

_**No…**_

_England moved off of the table, and stood by America's side._

"_What?" America asked, making his way towards the soldier, all traces of happiness erased. _

"_China, sirs, he escaped!" _

_With a snarl that seemed to rip from the American's throat America pulled a gun up from the table along with a packet of bullets. _

"_I'm gonna kill that bastard…" He growled. It was not much like America to say something like that. But he had every right to. Just when they thought that it was all over… _

"_Sir?" _

"_Prepare the bombs, aim them at china's capital and other main cities." He took a deep breath and turned weary blue eyes over to England. "I didn't think that this was going to happen…I'd sincerely hoped that it wouldn't… But it looks like it is going to have to end this way. Someone has to die." America turned back around, his back now straighter as his persona changed into that of a man of military. _

_England, as he watched his love exit the tent with the young soldier, felt his body go weak. _

_No…._

_He was sick of all this fighting. Absolutely sick of it, and yet here he was, and it was starting all over again. _

_He had seen enough death and war to last him forever and a day._

* * *

_America Had found China, and had nearly ripped him apart, getting pretty damn near destruction himself. He had been gone for nearly a month… no one knew where he had gone seeing as he'd gone all by himself. His logic was that he wasn't going to allow any more people to die because of this stupid war, and he was going to fix it. _

_Himself…_

_It was a side of Alfred that England loved and hated at the same time…The stupid heroic side of him._

_Always the hero…Always the one risking his own life to try and save the lives of others…_

"_Alfred!" Arthur cried as he approached the man who he loved most in this world. He knelt down on the ground beside the man's reeling figure. He sucked a breath in, and turned his face up to England's with a small smile. _

"_Hey there Iggy…" He mumbled wincing as he touched his side. "Ouch…" He chuckled a bit before he once again winced in pain. "I probably don't look so hot right now do i?"_

_England had to resist the urge to smack the stupid American. Thinking such vain thoughts at a time like this!_

"_No Alfred, you look like an idiot."_

"_Gee thanks. Love you too." _

_There was a long an awkward silence between the two of them where England just scanned America's body. Seeing all of the scrapes and cuts… __**He must be in a lot of pain**__…_

"_Alfred…"_

_The other man looked up at him. _

"_I…I DO love you, you know…" Arthur sat down beside America and let the other man sink into his arms as the British man lost all will to hold back his tears. His lover's blue eyes widened slightly at the display of emotion. England moved away from him with a sudden force, his eyes suddenly accusing. "Why? Why did you go after him? He was too weak to do anymore harm. You could have just….no…" England choked on a sob._

_America's hand came up to caress his face. "I didn't want to. Trust me Arthur." The endearment in which Alfred had said his actual name made England cry even harder…_

_Damnit! Men didn't cry, it wasn't right…._

"_But you are wrong. He WAS strong enough still. Strong enough to have a bomb pointed at you." England's green eyes snapped up to meet blue. _

"_What!"_

"_it wasn't strong enough to reach me no, but it was aimed at you…I couldn't allow you to get hurt… Don't worry, I may look horrible right now, but it's just a scratch." He chuckled. "Well, a few scratches, but…I'll be fine. My country is basically alright, except for a loss of lots of people, and then the capital…." The last sentence was said in a sort of rush that made England shiver. That had touched America's capital. And that __**he**__ was passing it off as some tiny scuffle!_

_It wasn't something England could swallow. _

"_You're such an idiot Alfred!"He took in a shaky breath. "I hate you." England sobbed. His capital was in danger because china knew Alfred would go after him alone. That had been the way that he was doing everything so far. So why not? If there was an opening… no…If there were spies in America's capital before that there wouldn't have been any difference…_

_Unless they were actually planning to retreat and not regroup._

_But that was very uncommon. _

"_No you don't." America smiled, pressing his chapped lips to England's palm. _

"_Bloody hell… Stupid twit…" _

"_Love you t—"_

_Alfred gasped, and then suddenly began to breathe heavily. He took himself away from England and lay on his back, biting his lips. A moan of pain escaped from his throat, and suddenly the American looked very young again. He was the child flinching at a crack of thunder, crying out and clutching England close to him. But this time…It wasn't thunder. _

_This time…__**He's not a child**__…_

_This time…__**He might be dying**__…_

_And,_

_This time… __**He's not reaching out for me**__…_

_The tears continued to escape from England's eyes. Arthur wouldn't be able to deal with losing his America! He __**couldn't **__lose him! Couldn't lose the man he loved most._

_He couldn't lose his world…_

_It took him a moment to realize that America was looking at him, his cerulean eyes heartbreaking. England moved closer to him, moving the blonds head onto his lap, and running his fingers through the blood and mud caked hair. _

"_It'll be okay love…" He mumbled half to himself. Yes, okay…okay…It'll be okay…HE'LL be okay._

"_Owww…" America whimpered as England's fingers ran over a knot. _

_England let his mind slip desperately back to old times. _

"_bloody hell Alfred!"He sobbed, trying to force a smile onto his face, but probably making himself look even more broken. "You should really brush out your hair; it's a bloody rat's nest…" _

_Alfred chuckled. _

"_I can do whatever~ I want sir bushy brow." He grinned._

"_you cant just go and get yourself killed. You're not allowed to. I know I don't control you anymore…but…I love you damnit!" _

_America wasn't __**that**__ independent. He just wasn't allowed to be that stupid! To make England feel this horrible!_

_England looked at America, his fingers now tumbling across his forehead. _

"_You…" He mumbled. "You love me right?"_

"_Of course." The American didn't even hesitate. _

"_Then promise me that you'll live no matter what."_

_America nodded. _

"_M'kay…" He was beginning to fall asleep…_

"_Promise!" England sobbed. _

_Alfred's eyes flickered back open, moving his hand towards England's and wrapping his pinky around the Britain's. _

"_I promise." He murmured. _

_America closed his eyes again, and began to fall asleep. England suddenly remembered that sleeping was bad when you were dying. Bad!_

"_Alfred! Stay awake! Do you hear me?" He pulled the other man into his arms and began to shake him a little. "Alfred, open your eyes! Awake!"_

_But the other man was already beginning to lose his grip on England's hand, his pinky slipping from Arthur's. _

"_Mmmnnn." He opened his mouth slightly, giving the other man a forced squeeze of the hand. _

"_You promised…" England's body quaked with sobs as the tears his lover's face. _

"_don't worry… No matter what…" He breathed. "Just a…scratch…" _

_And his hand fell. _

"_Alfred!"_

* * *

"ALFRED!" England awoke gasping, sweat clinging to him, and making his shirt cling to his chest.

_Sh*t_

"Sir…" The taxi driver turned around with questioning black eyes. "We're here…"

England whipped his head around to the window to see that there were indeed at the hospital.

"Oh bloody hell." England groaned, unclipping his seatbelt, and opening the door as he pulled his suitcase up after him. "Thank you!" He said quickly, shutting the door.

"—!" Right…He hadn't paid the man any money.

He thrust the yellow door open again, digging around in his pocket for some form of American money.

"Here!" He threw a $100 bill at the driver, and slammed the door shut again, booking it towards the hospital doors.

_Alfred…_

England pushed though the double doors and made his way to the front desk.

"Alfred F. Jones." He stated hurridly, wishing that she would instantly know where he was and not have to look it up. But alas, her over grown fingernails pecked achingly slow on the computer keys.

"Alfred…F….." She typed aloud, chewing her gum quite loudly.

England was about to burst, when he heard someone speak behind him.

"I know where he is."

The voice sent chills down England's spine, making him whirl around with narrowed eyes.

"Russia."

* * *

**Dun-Dun-daa-daa! hahaha cliff hangy? ish? **

**YAY! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Again, sorry for the lateness.**

**What do you want to happen next? (maybe the most popular answer will win!)**

**Should I keep going or end it soon?**

**Haha either way leave me lots of reviews and I promise the next one won't be late!**

_**REVIEWS=Happy writer=more fanfiction for you!**_

**So~ have a great thanksgiving!**

**and remember the person who gives the 50th review will get a free fanfiction from me!**


	13. The End

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hetalia.

Sorry guys! Ahhhh I've been SUPER busy! like you wouldn't believe... This is finally it guys... the end of this story-unless you want more! but now to those of you who have read Red Velvet and were like. "aghhhh! when is she going to upload a new chapter?" It's because this has been my priority. but i will now be working on that! and i promise that i will be on time more from now on. Like i said, busy. i hope that it didnt upset you guys too much and here it is! i really hope that you like it!

* * *

_America shivered, he didn't like the feeling of dying…no…He didn't like it one bit. He couldn't feel England's arms around him, could hardly hear the others voice, he couldn't feel anything. But he could see through dimming eyes that Arthur was crying. And…Arthur NEVER cried. _

_**This must really be upsetting him…**_

_Maybe America shouldn't have told him about the attack on his capital. That way England wouldn't be worrying so much. That way Alfred could just give in to the sleepiness that kept coming over him…_

_**NO!**_

_**I can't die. I can't die. I CAN'T DIE!**_

_He would do whatever it took for him to stay alive. Because that's what he had promised Iggy!_

"_Anything?" A voice murmured. It didn't sound familiar, and there was no one around but England. Where the hell had that come from? America took a sharp breath in to find that— he could, and…._

_It didn't hurt anymore…_

_**Sh*t!**_

_So he had died after all…_

_**Sorry Iggy…**_

_But what the hell was up with that voice? Was it trying to make a deal with him? Wait, didn't these kinds of things only happen in movies?_

"_uh…yeah." He murmured lamely. "Anything."_

_In the ever growing darkness that surrounded him, a thin smile appeared. __**Okay, creepy**__…The smile grew into a grin, reminding the American of the Cheshire cat. He shivered violently._

_**Why is it suddenly so cold?**_

"_Then anything it is~"Out of the mouth came a mist which snaked and looped around Alfred making the shivers grow until he was sure that he was just having some kind of f*cked up dream. The mist suddenly formed a body. _

"_Okay. Who are you?"_

"_You can call me what you wish." The voice took on a more female tone as curls spilt over her forming shoulders and body. Her face looked sweet aside from the much too cocky grin on her face. She looked like a child, but there was something menacing in her appearance. She moved closer to him, tilting her head to the side a bit as her eyes scanned his body. _

"_Would you…give up being a country?" She'd found his weakest point. _

"_No." He responded without hesitation. That would be the one thing to make him betray his promise to England. If he forfeited being a country all of his people would die. It didn't matter if he would live in place of them. The girl laughed and pressed down on his forehead. _

"_Oh Alfred, the ever noble __**hero**__~" She snorted and trailed a finger down his cheek. "But Alfred, Hero's don't exist." _

…

"_Yes they do." _

_Another bell like laugh chimed from her throat and she slung her arms around his neck, looking up at him with eyes that reflected horrible visions of war and death. Flames danced through her eyes reminding him of too many sad memories. He wanted to look away from her, but he found that he couldn't move at all. _

"_And you are one of them~? …Well believe what you wish." Suddenly she was 5 feet away from him walking away with her hands behind her back._

"_What is that supposed to mean?" _

_The girl turned around and looked at him with that Cheshire like grin of hers. _

"_I'm giving you a very rare opportunity Mr. America~"_

"_I want to live." Alfred stated. "Don't get me wrong i—"_

"_You promised."_

"_Yes… But I will not give up my country. A Captain goes down with his ship, promise or no. If I am to survive it will be __**with**__ my country and people. I will not let them die."_

"_I know." She pouted. "Fine." _

"_Fine?"_

"_Yes, you do not have to give up being a country…" She smirked. _

"_But?" He questioned, growing increasingly suspicious of her intentions. It didn't seem like she was going to let him off easy._

"_But, you will forget."_

"_Forget?"_

"_Yes. All of the evens from this war, and the feelings that you have for Arthur Kirkland. There is a way this is to be fixed, but~ you must figure that out yourself~"_

"_Problem being, that I won't remember."_

"_Not. A. Thing."_

"_No."_

_The frowned, her face becoming darker as she glared at him. _

"_It's going to have to be a good enough deal. Unless you want to just die." Her form snaked around him again. "And that would kill both you __**and **__your people. In addition to breaking your precious little lover's heart. Right. In. Two." She slammed a hand down into his chest, smirking as he fell to the ground. _

_It seemed like he would __**have**__ to forget…_

"_Fine."_

_

* * *

_

England turned around to face Russia, his narrowed green eyes meeting the others violet. The man stood much taller than he, but England felt like he wanted to get into a fight with him. Just knock out his vital regions.

"Hello England." The Russian smiled his usual pleasant and creepy smile. England held his ground, his mind filled with insults that he was never going to say.

"Russia."

"Da. That would be me." He smirked. "You certainly rushed over very quickly."

"What did you do to Alfred?"

"Ah…America." Russia's smile became sad for a moment, his fists clenching for a brief moment before he slipped back into his normal person. "He passed out."

England slammed his fists down on the counter and was met with wide eyes from the nurse behind it. He didn't bother to apologize, he just glared at the Russian.

"Bloody hell! I KNOW he passed out! The problem being that, Alfred wouldn't just pass out like that!"

"Well he did."

"What happened before then?"

"He…..Was drinking."

"He doesn't get drunk that easily."

Russia hesitated, moving a little away from the desk as if he was going to just turn around and leave. Had someone bad happened before then? What did Russia do to him?

"Well…he got upset…" England raised an eyebrow. "Jealous if you will. And he ran outside. Then, he fell down."

"Jealous?"

"Da."

"What did you do?"

"Nyet, I wasn't the one who did anything wrong."

England paused, taking in a deep breath and continuing to glare at the Russian. Russia didn't give much away, but there was something…Almost accusing in those icy violet eyes. England's green eyes widened as realization struck him, was it something this he did?

"Are you….trying to say that it's my fault?"

"Nyet. It was that _woman's_."

"What woman?"

"the annoying one who looked very similar to Alfred." England bit his lip, once more angered by the similarity in which Russia was addressing _his_ Alfred. Wait—did he just say a woman who looked very similar to—

"Molly?" England growled.

"I do not believe that her name was Molly…"

"Argh! Well who cares?" Russia's eyes narrowed.

"Alfred." He stated. "He cared. Cared enough to snap." Ivan looked truly upset as he began to turn around.

"Snapped?"

"Yes." The large man began to make his way towards the elevator. "He remembered."

England froze, his eyes going wide.

…

…

_Alfred…Remembered…?_

…

…

"Russia!" The Russian turned around with a forced smile.

"Da?"

"Did he…Really remember?"

Ivan clenched his teeth.

"No England, I am lying to you."

He was—?

Oh…Right…Sarcasm…

"So then he did."

"Da." Russia said impatiently as he pressed down on the 'up' button. "But do not get your hopes up. He may wake up without his memories again."

"No." England smiled. "He'll remember this time."

The elevator door opened and Russia stepped inside.

"We will see…"

* * *

Canada sat beside his brother, watching the other man breathe. At least that was good, that he was breathing. When they had first found him outside in the cold his heart had stopped…

That night had been really odd… What with that girl, and….Matthew had been quite drunk. Thank God he hadn't done something stupid. But then again…doing that one stupid thing might have been good. If he had told Russia how he felt. Purely on impulse and the liquid courage. But still… nothing would have happened anyways because….

_Ivan loves Alfred…_

Not him. His twin. Canada looked back down at America. The other blond hair slightly messy, his expression pleasant…He was surely the more attractive twin. The more outgoing. The more laid back…more fun…more noticeable…

_More lovable_

Yes, the only love Canada got aside from the rather creepy love that France gave him was from Alfred. But then there was Russia. There were times when the bigger man would act kindly towards the Canadian. And he never forgot that Canada was in the room. He was—

_But he loves my brother!_

A bittersweet smile passed over Matthews face, and he touched Alfred's hand, running his fingers across the smooth texture of his brother's palm. His little selfish moment was over and he was simply happy for his twin. Alfred had just gotten out of the ICU. He was doing much better now.

_I hope that his memories come back._

"Wake up soon Al."

A clicking sound stirred Canada from his trance, and he turned around in time to see England rush into the room with a very upset looking Russia behind him.

"Alfred…" England murmured.

There was a painful expression on Russia's face as he looked up and met eyes with Canada.

_He must have told him…_

"Canada." Russia said his name softly, and turned around. His body langue telling Canada that he wanted him to follow behind… Slowly Canada stood and walked past England.

America lay on the hospital bed, beautiful as ever in England's eyes. His Alfred was alright. So long as that rang true England could forgive all that had happened. Because….Despite everything Arthur couldn't stop loving Alfred. England sat down on the chair beside America's bed and ran a finger across his cheek, felling the warm softness that meant he was alive.

"Alfred…" He murmured. "You truly are the most imbecilic hero that I have never met" England reached down to touch America's hand, and lacing his fingers through the other's. "But you already know that. I've told you this before. But you know what it means… Though, I don't have any idea how I can even tolerate your presence and yet I couldn't live without being by your side. You know…When I heard you'd fallen down. I rushed here as quickly as I could." England took a deep breath.

"But you… You're everything that I hate in a person. You're never organized and I cant stand it, you're always late for everything, you don't seem to understand that it's _okay_ to depend on me a little bit… Your low witted sarcasm isn't funny at all. You're always flirting with other people when you don't even realize it. The only one who you should be looking at is me. Not Russia, or Japan, or anybody else. If it was me who you loved…then why not act like it? You're such a sore winner hat it drives me crazy! You could stop rubbing the fact that I lost in my face… Shall I go on?" It felt good to be able to say these things that he'd held in for so long aloud to him. "you're much too cocky, no- or should I say _convinced_. You call me names, even when you whine about being called names back. You could give me a heart attack st any moment. You're annoying and rude. You forgot everything important, and left me here alone! Then you remember everything and pass out?" He choked on an unexpected sob. "What the f*ck…." England sighed and let a small smile slip over his face. It wasn't fair how America could make him feel this way and he could just forget everything…

_Idiot…_

Arthur rest his head down beside Alfred's.

"I **hate **you."

* * *

Canada followed Russia down the hallway feeling somewhat nervous. More nervous than usual…Because this was Russia he was walking with. The man that Matthew had been in love with for a very long time…

…

The silence was nerve wracking,

_Maybe I should say something..._

"Yes Canada?" Russia tossed a glance over his shoulder at the Canadian those violet eyes piercing. It was funny how he always seemed to know when Canada wanted to say something, but just couldn't find it in him to break the silence… Canada's eyes shifted downwards before coming back up to meet Ivan's.

"Are you alright?" He bit his lip wondering how odd he must sound… but he was only asking if Ivan was alright or not. But why would he assume that something was wrong…? What right did he have to even ask Ivan how he felt… It wasn't like they were close or anything…Did Russia even consider them friends? Canada wasn't sure, but by the tensing of Russia's shoulders he guessed that he had crossed a line he never should have. Ivan let out a deep breath.

"I am fine Canada." The lie in his voice was apparent. Russia was definitely NOT fine.

"Why…why are you lying to me?" Canada's indigo eyes stayed glued on the back of Russia's head as they just kept walking. Honestly, Matthew didn't think that they were heading anywhere, just to get away from Alfred and Arthur.

"I am not lying." Came the cool response.

"You—"

"No Canada, I am fine. There is nothing wrong. Leave it at that." Canada sighed. Russia wasn't obligated to tell him anything no…but it would be alright if he let it out every once in a while. Canada knew that holding back emotions wasn't good for you.

"You're upset." He stated one again and Russia whirled yet again on him.

"And if I am Canada?" He snarled, his violet eyes searching Matthew's face. "What are you going to do about it hmm? There is _nothing_ that you _can_ do."

Canada backed away from him his eyes moving away from the Russian entirely. How did Ivan expect him to react to something like that?

"No…" He murmured. "But I think that… It would be best if you just…let your emotions show you know… because then you won't feel so horrible after holding it all inside…and you know. Holding your emotions back just isn't healthy and….I…" His voice faltered and fell as he saw the mocking smile appear over Russia's face.

"Ah~ The ever so gentle Canada. What do you want me to do?" He sneered. "Cry? Scream?" He looked Canada over. "Let you hold me?" Russia snorted at that, and backed up from the close proximity that he had been to Canada's face. Matthew tried to force away the blush that coloured his cheeks, to calm his shallow breathing… He blinked a few times in an attempt at making his eyes less wide. Oh and that annoying stutter that he got whenever he was nervous…

"N-no! i-i-I'm not…I'm j-just saying that you should…"

"Now you are ordering me?"

"No!"

"I am fine Canada, do not waste your concern on me." Russia said as he turned back around and continued down the hallway.

"No…" Matthew murmured, feeling a sudden urgency to get this across to the Russian. "No…I can see it in you. You're upset." Russia turned around with another sigh and glare. "Upset because England—" An angry force ran through the Russian as he began to walk quickly towards Canada. Matthew swallowed. Maybe he had gone too far…yeah…he shouldn't have even opened his mouth in the first place…

"Because he is going to take Alfred away from me? And things will go back to being like they were before? Da. I know these things. I don't even have a chance with Alfred anymore when he wakes up. Of course I would not be the one who gets to hold him. I do not like it, but— I am alright. It is not the worst thing that has ever happened to me." Canada hardly even breathed as silence came over them. His indigo eyes came up to meet violet with a sad smile.

"But it still hurts."

Russia drew in a sharp breath in and moved closer to Canada a way that made Matthew flinch back.

"And _what_ do you know about this pain?" He questioned mockingly.

_A lot._

"I know enough…" Canada dropped the other's gaze and bit his lip. All of his emotions had been dripping from those words and ones that followed. "I know what it feels like to spend a very long time loving someone when you _know_ that the feelings aren't mutual. I know how much it hurts to see them with someone else and try…" Matthew squeezed his eyes shut and took in a shaky breath. "_try…_ so hard to be happy for them. To lie to yourself that you actually are! I DO know how much it hurts to understand that you could never actually be with that person." He swallowed and once again met Russia's eyes. He needed to say it at least once. He would give up after this…but he just wanted to…

"But I also know…that even if I told you a million times how much I love you— you would still love him so much more than me… and…I…I don't want to be Al's replacement…" That was IF Russia decided that he would take pity on the Canadian and try to return the love.

Ivan's eyes had gone wide and there was a slight tremble to his shoulders.

"You…" He began "You have much more feelings for me than I ever thought that you would…." Ivan took a step back, hands dropping to his sides. "And I am very sorry." Matthew's heart sunk once again as it became progressively more difficult to breathe… There it was, rejection. The thing in which Matthew never wanted to hear, because he knew that it would hurt this much. He didn't enjoy the feeling of his heart begin crushed inside of his chest.

Canada's back pressed closer to the wall in order to keep his breathing steady and his body from collapsing. He should never have told him. Never. It…should have just been kept inside of him. It would have definitely been better to—

Ivan moved closer to him, whipping the tears from Canada's closed eyes.

"I am…Truly sorry Canada…" That large hand stopped oh his cheek before moving down to caress the Canadian's face. What was he doing? "Matthew." Canada's stinging eyes flashed open. Russia came closer to him, gentle pressing his lips against Matthew's.

Mnnn….

Wait-

NO!

Canada pushed him away, his body crumpling to the ground, his form shaking.

"No…No…No…No…" He bit his lip. "You can't do that. Don't play with me Russia…Not unless…Y-You mean it…"

Russia knelt down and pushed Matthew's hair out of his face.

"Canada, I cannot assure you that I love you. But, I think that I will give it a shot. One of these days I could grow into loving you, but for now. Take that as my thanks to you."

Canada turned wide blue violet eyes to the Russian.

"You…"

"Da."

"But….Al…"

"No. And I promise you, it is not because you look similar to him. I shall grow to love _you_."

Canada smiled as more tears fell from his eyes and he began to cry again. Russia just smiled back at him, pulling the Canadian into his arms.

* * *

Alfred's eyes fluttered open.

Meh. Bright light was NOT fun to deal with when you had a seriously bad headache. Was this a hangover…? No. He was in a hospital. And England—

ENGLAND!

The fuzzy shape in front of him began to clear and he could see the blond man's face more clearly. America smiled, he had been crying.

He cried as he'd talked as well.

_He __**hates**__ me, hmmm?_

Alfred chuckled and reached up for his much too long forgotten boyfriend. Arthur's eyes widened as America's fingers threaded through his hair.

"Al….Alfred…"

"Hey there sir bushy brow." America grinned, letting his other hand come up to loop around the Englishman's neck, pulling the other closer to him so that their lips touched. England hesitated for a brief moment before allowing himself of give in to the kiss.

After a short amount of time America pulled away, leaving the other gasping.

"I hate you too." He grinned, running a hand down England's smooth face.

Arthur's eyes went wide again and he threw himself down on Alfred, wrapping his arms around the American as Alfred pulled himself up from the hospital bed in order to return the embrace.

"Twit."

America smiled.

"I know."

"Prat."

"I know."

"Idiot." England murmured, burying his face in Alfred's neck.

"But I'm your idiot."

"Yes…" England pulled away with a dazzling smile. "But that doesn't mean that I can't you."

"England, you can hate me all you want." America's eyes softened as he smiled warmly at his lover. "Just remember. I'll just forget the meaning of hate."

"Jerk."

"That's me."

Arthur laughed and pressed his lips against Alfred's again and began to kiss him. Finally…Finally…

"I love you."

"Baby I know~"

"Oh shut up." Arthur smiled, and the two of them began to laugh.

* * *

Alrighty then~ there we go. the end. yay! this was the only way i wanted to end this story, so i am sorry that it is so short. but i hope it was still worth it! I love you guys! please tell me what you thought of the story overall. *teary eyes* goodbye! thankyou so much for sticking with me until the end!


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